Well Met At Mechanicsburg
by Khilari
Summary: AU. Never having concluded Klaus was working for the Other, Barry Heterodyne returns to Mechanicsburg just in time to interrupt the Wulfenbach takeover. As Barry and Klaus tackle Europa's problems and settle into their new responsibilities, Aaronev's plotting sends Tarvek to join Agatha and Gil in a new friendship that may disrupt everyone's plans.
1. In Which Klaus Talks Barry Into Things

Barry uncurled gingerly from around the little girl in his arms, got his feet under him, and staggered away from the remains of the craft he'd escaped in. After several steps, he went back and, one-handed, rigged it to explode. He wasn't sure if there was any pursuit, but one more scar in the earth would mean nothing. Letting anyone find the vehicle itself could be deadly.

Lucrezia was gone - he hoped. Bill was dead. Europe was ruined. And he was in some wasteland with the three-year-old daughter Lucrezia had meant to live on through.

"Agatha," he said.

The craft blew, behind them, and Agatha looked interestedly over his shoulder. "Woge-ze?"

The three-year-old who only spoke the Geister tongue. Of which he'd only picked up a bit, by skulking around them, himself. He suddenly felt unutterably weary. "Time for you to learn Romanian, little one," he said, and then repeated it as well as he could in their language.

Barry started walking.

Agatha was mostly a cheerful child and obviously brilliant. She reciprocated his attempts to teach her Romanian by patiently trying to teach him more of the Geister language, and his stomach twisted when he understood that she'd been asking when she would see some of the priestesses again. He was fairly sure at least one of the names belonged to someone he'd killed.

He told her never.

She asked again, as if she thought one of them had misunderstood something.

When there was no more room for confusion, she threw a screaming fit and then didn't speak to him for two days.

Agatha only tried to run away from him twice, and Barry was deeply grateful it wasn't more. The second time his heart almost stopped when he saw she'd come close to a half-buried hive engine. He destroyed it and then carried her through the night and the next day until his feet burned and he finally gave out from exhaustion, and then he sat up with her far into the next night, holding her close, talking over her head. He wasn't sure whether to hope she understood or remembered anything he told her, but the words wouldn't stop coming.

Whatever she did or didn't understand, her spirits recovered with surprising speed. Certainly faster than Barry's. He tried to be cheerful for her, remembering how Bill's dark moods and silence had weighed on him. He didn't think a pretense - if Bill had been capable of one - would really have helped, but then, he wasn't a child.

He avoided people and towns when he could, but they stopped at the occasional village to trade work for supplies. He didn't tell people he was Barry Heterodyne. For one thing, they'd have wanted to know where Bill was, and for another he still wasn't sure who might be looking for him, Geisterdamen or humans, and it was probably safer for everyone if they never knew. Ideally they wouldn't even remember him... so he didn't do Spark-work, either, unless there was a problem it was really needed to solve, and then he mostly tried to hide it.

Months later, he reached the mountains near Mechanicsburg, and that was when he heard that Baron Wulfenbach was planning to invade it.

On the face of it, this seemed unlikely on several counts. Klaus had disappeared more than six years ago. No, Barry corrected himself, he'd lost track of time somewhat. Almost eight years ago now. They'd hoped he would come back, they'd searched for him, but they'd never picked up a trail or so much as a rumour and they'd eventually concluded that he had probably run into worse trouble than even he could handle. Since finding out Lucrezia's actual plans, it had occurred to Barry with increasing frequency and discomfort that she had been their only source of information on Klaus's decision to go traveling alone, but that didn't exactly seem to make his survival more probable.

And if Klaus _was_ alive, why in the world would he invade Mechanicsburg? (And how?) The only thing that would make the town happier than Klaus showing up was getting their Heterodynes back, and given Barry was going to have to tell them Bill was dead, Klaus would probably have a less dampening effect.

He sought out more information as he got closer, despite the greater risk of being recognized. Klaus had shown up months, maybe only weeks after he and Bill set off for outer space. Klaus had rebuilt his own town (Barry winced - he hadn't heard it needed it until then) and proclaimed he'd conquer anyone who attacked it, which was plausible as a fit of temper and which various neighbors had unsurprisingly taken as an invitation. Klaus was now planning to take over the rest of Europe in successively larger radii. Barry wasn't sure what was actually going on, but he obviously needed to be in Mechanicsburg himself.

Everything seemed to be okay when he got there, or rather, no worse than when he'd left. It was quiet. The farmers were farming. There were no encampments outside the walls, and thin but steady streams of traffic tramped through the various gates. There _was_ a rather heavily armed airship with a winged Wulfenbach sigil floating on the near side of town, but that wasn't automatically alarming - wait. Barry paused, blinked, and looked at that again as he noticed something odd about the top of it. Was that a _garden?_

The airship wasn't, in fact, on the near side of town. It was farther off, and once he processed the perspective correctly, he was pretty sure it was long enough to stretch across the entire town. That wasn't just a dirigible; it was a floating city itself. How in the world had Klaus...

Several minutes later, Barry shook himself out of an analytical reverie. He stowed his binoculars, hoisted Agatha into his arms (she gave a put-upon sigh: she wanted to walk), and walked down to the road and into town. There was actually quite a bit of traffic. Most was probably local trade, but there were even a handful of tourists already. A couple of people looked twice, but he could almost see them dismiss the idea that a single travel-worn man with a child was one of the missing Heterodyne Boys. One of the great gargoyles by the gate started to turn its head, and he looked up and put a finger to his lips.

Once he got properly into town, _everyone_ who lived there recognized him regardless of how self-effacing he tried to be. He met their eyes, as many as he could, trying to make it clear that he didn't want a fuss yet; and they kept quiet for now and directed him, with subtle head and eye movements of their own, always toward the same part of town. All right then.

When he got to the square, two things struck him. The first was actually the looming statue of himself and Bill, which had _not_ been there when he left - ten feet tall, smiling and laughing and both giving the thumbs-up signal, on a pedestal which had for some reason been emblazoned with the words "We'll be back - cancel the milk." These had in fact been Barry's last words before their departure, and he'd hoped even the weak flippancy would be encouraging, in lieu of being able to think of anything inspirational. Seeing them immortalised was a bit strange.

The second was Klaus, talking to General Khrizhan (who was, like everyone else in town, dutifully pretending not to notice Barry) and gesturing with a book held in one hand and _definitely_ alive.

Definitely alive. Barry shut his eyes for a moment, feeling this was one of the nicest things the universe had done in the past four years. Then he strolled up behind Klaus, taking a deep breath and expanding himself into the kind of body language that belonged to being a Heterodyne Boy rather than an inconspicuous traveler, and clapped his old friend on the shoulder. "So I'm told you're trying to take over my town."

"Hoy!" General Khrizhan protested, although he was grinning gigantically. "Ve vas havink a _polite_ chat."

Klaus whirled and stared at him, tried to say something, sputtered instead, and then actually did manage to say, "Where have you _been_?" He gestured with the book as if thinking of throwing it at Barry. "Everyone said you were dead. Where's Bill?"

Barry flinched. At the words, not the book. "Bill _is_ dead," he said, his voice low and flat but carrying. The rushing murmur of the crowd went silent and bleak. He hadn't said it before, not out loud, and he had to swallow twice before he could go on. "So is Lucrezia. This is their daughter Agatha."

Klaus swallowed too, gaze going flat for a moment. He looked down at Agatha, who squirmed around to look back at him. "I see." He held out the book to Barry, this time inviting him to take it rather than threatening to throw it at him.

The title was _Raise a Child Alive_. Well, that was interesting. Barry regarded it for a second and then accepted it. "Thank you. Where have _you_ been? We could never find any sign."

"Skifander." Klaus sounded wistful, as if he'd rather like to be back there. "Lucrezia's doing," he added, and that he sounded embarrassed about.

"Long story, I'm guessing." Barry indicated Castle Heterodyne. "I'd invite you in to exchange them, but at last check my house was incoherently murderous so I think we'd have to start by finding a decent set of tools and a babysitter."

"My house is available, if you'd prefer," Klaus said, gesturing up at the hovering airship.

Barry looked at it thoughtfully. If he seriously thought Klaus was getting carried away with some scheme of conquest, going on board his airship - let alone with Agatha - was of course the last thing he should do. "Sure," he said, "but I hope your steering's improved."

Klaus gave him a look. "Don't worry. This one doesn't land," he said, drily.

"Well, that's a creative way around the problem." Barry took a steadying breath. This was hardly the time for jokes. "I should talk to Carson first, though."

Klaus swallowed again. "Carson's dead." Then he frowned, eyebrows pinching together. "I was _told_ he died the night the Castle was attacked. But I'd assume you'd _know_ if that was the case."

Barry's eyebrows rose slowly, and his eyes flicked momentarily up to the silent looming general. "He was alive and coordinating the rescue efforts when we got back, and still fine when we left. As much as any of us were, anyway. His _son_-" His jaw tightened, and his fingers curled around _Raise a Child Alive_. "There are probably bits of him in the crypt with little Klaus. They told you the seneschal died, didn't they."

Klaus buried his forehead in one hand. "Yes, they did. I really should have known better than to take anything at face value in Mechanicsburg."

"Sorry," Barry said. As if Klaus hadn't come back to _enough_ bad news. "I'm not quite sure what the point was, but unless something happened to him in the past few years I'm sure he'll turn up."

"Your friendship is not quite sufficient reason to tell him all the family's secrets," Carson said, from practically at his elbow. "At least not for me to do it. Welcome back. Lord Heterodyne."

Barry closed his eyes and sighed, long and slow, through his nose. Agatha was obviously too young to inherit right now, even assuming Lucrezia and the Geisterdamen hadn't had a chance to complete their plans. "Give the tourists a chance to get out of town before you ring the Doom Bell." Especially more than once.

"I know my job," Carson said simply. "They'll have plenty of time while you repair the Castle. Popular as you are, there may yet be people outside the walls who'd be _overexcited_ to hear you're home."

"Don't I know it," Barry muttered. "Don't worry. I know mine, too."

* * *

Klaus led the way through Castle Wulfenbach, currently a web of girders, full of people working on making it more than that. Sound echoed, metallic thumps and workmen calling to one another. Agatha was squirming in Barry's arms, trying to look over the side of the catwalk they were on. The one finished area was perched ahead of them like a steel box, and Klaus walked a little faster. Inside was a small hallway, branching off on one side into his study, bedroom and laboratory. The other side contained the school.

Barry was looking around with quite as much curiosity as Agatha and presumably a lot more analysis. Based on past experience, Klaus assumed that by the time they reached the finished area, Barry would have about twenty ideas for improvements (half of which Klaus had thought of himself but couldn't implement yet) and know at least seven ways to cause utter mayhem and possibly crash the dirigible by yanking on a mechanism or throwing a small object. It would be more if Klaus had less practice doing that himself.

As they entered the finished area, Von Pinn - whom Klaus had first spoken to a week ago, and whom he had just yesterday deemed in sufficient control of herself to come aboard and meet the students - appeared in the doorway to the school like a guardian demon. She stiffened, staring at Barry. No. At Agatha.

Barry stopped walking with an expression of shock. "Madame Von Pinn." He shot Klaus a look of frantic inquiry, then returned his eyes to the rigid construct in black leather. "You look, ah, better than I was expecting."

"Master Barry," she said, her eyes still on Agatha. "This is Lucrezia's child?"

Barry's arms tightened very slightly. "Yes, she-"

"Yes, I am," Agatha said at the same time. "Did you know my mother, Madame Von Pinn?"

Von Pinn hissed slightly. "Yes. I was charged with the protection of her child." She tipped her head back to meet Barry's eyes. "She is mine to care for." There was a note of pleading to her tone and Klaus winced. He wasn't sure Von Pinn could handle being denied a second chance to fulfil her purpose without breaking. Lucrezia had, he thought, rather overdone it with implanting a need to fulfil a purpose.

"I don't remember her," Agatha said, her voice remarkably wistful for a child who couldn't be more than four. "The-" here she said something that sounded like gibberish but clearly wasn't meant to be. "-Just told me about her."

Barry inhaled slowly. "I'll have to come get her again later," he said, without taking his eyes off Von Pinn, "but perhaps the two of you should get to know each other." Klaus could practically see the effort of will it took to extend Agatha toward her, but Agatha held out her arms and then was suddenly in Von Pinn's.

"I can walk," Agatha said, in the tones of one who had explained something many times and didn't expect anyone to listen, but was still trying to be polite about it.

"Once we are inside you can walk all you like," Von Pinn answered. She nodded at Barry. "Thank you." Her disappearance into the school was followed by a babble of young voices as the other children responded to a new arrival.

"Thank you," Klaus said, echoing her last words. "Agatha will be perfectly safe with her."

Barry let out an unsteady sigh. "I'll trust your judgement on her - and I'm impressed you got her calmed down - but we _really_ need to talk." He gestured to the study and followed Klaus in, then said, very quietly, "Everybody here honestly thinks Lucrezia was kidnapped, but she _left_. She was the Other. I took Agatha away from the Geisterdamen not even a year ago."

Klaus stood stock still for a moment and then let out a breath between his teeth. When he'd last seen Lucrezia she'd been insisting that she was, in her own way, going to try being good. Her own way including shipping inconvenient temptations to Skifander. He'd guessed she wouldn't manage it; he hadn't guessed she'd fail so _spectacularly_. Had she been lying from the start? Why lie to someone you were about to poison? "I never imagined she was that powerful," he said, head swirling with too many emotions for him to manage a less dispassionate response while remaining coherent. Memories of her standing over him, gloating. Memories of her laughing with Bill over the latest stupid novel. "I can see the stylistic similarities, now I know what to look for."

Barry leaned against the wall, arms folded, and let his head fall back against it with a dull thunk. "We didn't actually figure it out until we caught up with her. Bill - I don't even know what Bill thought. He hadn't exactly been himself for a while, but... you remember we kidded them about how they'd die making out somewhere that was exploding..." Barry's voice failed on the last syllable, though his lips finished the word.

Klaus patted his shoulder, feeling helpless and overwhelmed by his own grief for Bill. And, annoyingly, for Lucrezia as well. He didn't want to feel anything for her but anger and resentment, but while he was feeling plenty of both he was also remembering too many times when the four of them had been together. "Did he know about Agatha?"

Barry brought his hand up blindly to grip Klaus's wrist. "Lucrezia mentioned her. That's why I went to the Geisterdamen." A wince. "She apparently had plans to copy her mind over Agatha's."

Klaus's hand tightened on Barry's shoulder. "I take it you found her before that happened."

Barry swallowed. "I _really_ hope so."

Klaus shuddered, for a moment regretting that he'd sent Agatha with Von Pinn. She was in a room with his _son_. "I see."

Barry focused again and straightened up, without shaking Klaus's hand off. "I'm... nearly sure, really," he said, more crisply. "I can't see Lucrezia having any great urge to relive childhood, let alone infancy, and as far as I could gather she gave birth among the Geisterdamen and promptly took off to, uh, rain boulders and hive engines down on Europe. I didn't find anything that resembled the mind-transfer equipment in Castle Heterodyne, and Agatha's..." He trailed off and sighed. "A real sweetheart, mostly. I mean, she's got a temper, but if anything she's calmer and happier than I'd expect. Considering I basically kidnapped her from the only people she knew, all of whom adored her absolutely even if they did mean to overwrite her brain one day. But it's not like I actually know what Lucrezia would be like transplanted into a toddler." He held up the book Klaus had handed him. "Please tell me yours sounds that precocious?"

Klaus hesitated. "He died once," he said, also looking at the book. Once had been one time too many. "There's amnesia. He's precocious enough to be compensating for it by picking things up fast, but I'm not even sure how to measure his development at this stage."

"Oh." Barry was silent for a moment, looking at Klaus, jarred out of his own worries. "I'm sorry. I'm glad you managed to bring him back, though." Simple, heartfelt, and utterly unconcerned about the possibility that it sounded inane. "Ah... did someone attack him? Is that why you're _not_ in Skifander?"

"He has a twin sister. They don't like twins, apparently." Klaus sighed. "And if I'm going to raise a child in Europe I'm going to _fix_ it first."

"I see." Barry's tone was worryingly like the one that had come out of Klaus's own mouth over Barry _hoping_ Agatha wasn't actually a miniature Lucrezia. Suspiciously neutral. "Tall order."

Klaus looked at him impatiently. "I know you always thought that with the monsters cleared out people could rule themselves. But it turns out that they can't. With the Other gone they either grabbed for power or ran around panicking. I started out trying to protect my home, but there's no way to do _that_ without being willing to take down attackers. And then I owe it to the places I've taken to protect _them_ as well. If the only way to clean up Europe is to own it, then I will do that. And I will make it work."

"Klaus," Barry said, looking... so honestly concerned that it was difficult to resent, "you do remember hating politics, right?"

Klaus snorted. "I don't like getting invaded either. I don't suppose I could convince you to do the political part?"

Barry rubbed a hand over the side of his face. "Did you just ask me to help you conquer Europe?"

"No," said Klaus, starting to find this funny and rather feeling he shouldn't. "I asked you to help run Europe after _I've_ conquered it."

"Oh, okay. You're proposing to be the next Storm King with a Heterodyne as your chief minister. Much better. I admit, you've definitely come up with a version none of my ancestors would have signed on for." He reached up and took Klaus by the shoulders; Klaus half expected to be shaken, but Barry just stared into his eyes for a long moment instead, then sighed. "Only you," he muttered, "could be planning to conquer Europe from an airship city and _still_ come across as grounded."

"Despite appearances I'm being practical," said Klaus, not sure whether to be indignant or amused that Barry had thought he might be in a fugue state. "If you've been travelling on foot you must have seen what a mess everything is. And if I know you, you don't intend to just let it stay that way."

Barry looked _guilty_ at that, which was unsettling: Klaus felt an undefined jolt of triumph, even though it wasn't a reaction he'd meant to evoke, and a simultaneous sense that the world was the wrong way up. "No," Barry said after a moment. "But I admit I haven't got far thinking of _how_."

Klaus backed off slightly. "You don't have to do things my way. But we could accomplish more working together."

"Well, that's basically always true." The smile Barry flashed then was a shadow of what it used to be. But it was still nice to see and hear, especially given what Klaus _was_ proposing. "I've been listening. I actually do have an idea how many people asked you to do this," he said seriously. "And how many were _figuratively_ asking for it, too. But it's not as if anybody else appreciates being invaded either." A wry look. "Speaking of which. You obviously know pretty much everybody in Mechanicsburg likes you. I don't think they'd have put up with this from anybody else."

"Even if Carson evidently felt the need to pretend to be dead," Klaus said. He decided not to bring up the deal he'd been making with the Jägers; Barry was likely to be even less happy about Klaus's plans if they were involved. "I was fairly confident they wouldn't attack me, at least."

"Carson also told everybody else to go along with you. I hear you're good for tourism." Barry sighed. "But seriously, this is an ongoing moral and practical problem with your plan. Mechanicsburg, like I said, likes you. And saw advantages to joining your new empire, even if they were a little annoyed. But how many places have you pushed into it, that didn't attack you? And how many do you think you _will_?"

"I do ask." Klaus sighed. "There probably will be times when I have to choose between leaving someone known to be dangerous inside my borders because they haven't attacked me _yet_ or pushing them to say yes. I don't have either your charisma or your ability to be taken seriously due to several generations proving it's a bad idea not to take your family seriously." He eyed Barry speculatively. "If you _can_ convince people to rule themselves in a sensible manner and not attack anyone I'd be more than happy to leave them to it. As you pointed out, I really do hate politics."

"Generally speaking, anybody you've got surrounded is probably going to be twitchy regardless." Barry paced over to take a seat in front of Klaus's desk and propped his elbow on it, evidently reading upside-down Klaus's notes on the map that lay there. "You may have more politics but also less administration and less resentment if you ask for _allies_." He considered. "And it's not that much more politics, if you're mostly not removing rulers anyway."

Klaus sat down across from him. "At which point the question becomes 'allies in doing what?' Agreements not to attack each other would be a good start. Agreements to contribute to infrastructure might be harder to obtain." He quirked an eyebrow at Barry. "I assume you wouldn't object to taking people who mistreat their subjects out of power. You never did before."

"We did usually try to get them to stop first," Barry pointed out. This had been the topic of a number of past heated arguments. Even assuming the reform was real, heartfelt, and not based on fear of the Heterodyne Boys stopping by again to make a mess of things, Klaus thought it was frequently unfair to leave everyone stuck with the same person who'd been abusing them. In some cases he'd won the argument and they had quite literally removed the offending ruler. "But no."

Klaus looked down at the paperwork. "I did like your way of doing things. But it took twenty years to have anything much to show for it, and everything was undone in five. I'm out of patience for doing things the long way."

"It didn't even take five." Barry looked pensive. "I always hated it when people asked us to take over. Of course, in this case that would hardly have helped hold things together any longer. But I admit it wasn't mostly a philosophical objection."

"If it helps, I don't think anyone ever asked your ancestors to take over."

Barry snorted. "Not likely. If they did, I can't imagine it went well." He drummed his fingers on the desk, then looked up at Klaus and held out a hand. "About the last thing I want to do is fight you, you know."

It was strange to be viewed as someone Barry thought he might have to fight. Klaus had to remind himself that for all his good intentions he was, in fact, a Spark bent on conquest. "I don't want that either," he said. He took Barry's hand feeling that this was, in some way, an agreement not to do things too far from what Barry would approve of. "I'm willing to try for alliances. Will you be helping with that?" Even if things were different, even if he had taken the lead this time, he wanted Barry to stay.

"No, Klaus, I thought I'd push you to do things the hard way and then hole up in Mechanicsburg and not help," Barry said. "Of course I will."

Klaus smiled, feeling the sarcasm was probably a good sign. Barry had seemed so worn. "I'll help with Mechanicsburg too, if you like. Your Castle needs fixing before it eats anymore TPU teams."

Barry blinked. "Before it _what_? Why did anybody go in?" He stopped and covered his eyes. "Why do I even ask questions like that? Yes, thank you. There's nobody I'd rather have along."


	2. In Which Agatha Meets Everybody

Just as she'd implied, Madame Von Pinn put Agatha down as soon as they were inside, although as Uncle Barry often did, she kept hold of Agatha's hand. Agatha looked around, as much fascinated as she'd been by the parts of the dirigible that looked from a distance like they'd been spun by a really big metal spider. This wasn't like any building she'd been in before, but the most interesting part was that there were _other children_ here. They didn't look like the Geisterdamen's children. The colours and proportions were different, like her, like the other pink and tan and brown children in villages but she'd never seen so many all at once. They'd all paused to look at her, so she lifted her free hand and waved.

"This is Lady Agatha Heterodyne," said Madame Von Pinn.

"I thought Aunt Lucrezia had a boy," blurted a taller, brown-skinned boy with black hair. Agatha looked at him with some astonishment. If her mother was his aunt, she had a cousin.

For some reason, he clapped his hand over his mouth as soon as he'd spoken, and Madame Von Pinn trembled very slightly and very fast, so holding her hand felt almost like holding a bee. "Her second child, Master Theo," Madame Von Pinn said after a few seconds. "Miss Agatha, if you wish to walk or play, you may."

Agatha felt the grip on her hand release and darted up to Theo at once. "You're my cousin," she said. "I didn't know about any before."

"I didn't know about you," he returned, grinning down at her. He seemed friendly. "You're really Bill Heterodyne's daughter?" He looked around, then asked in a hushed voice, even though she was pretty sure Madame Von Pinn could still hear him, "Is he here?"

Agatha shook her head. "Uncle Barry brought me. He says my parents are dead. I didn't really get to know them. My mother left me with servants, but Uncle Barry says they were bad."

"I don't remember mine very well either."

"I think I like having a cousin, though," Agatha decided. She noticed almost everybody else had crowded around, so she turned and smiled at them. People in the villages usually smiled back if she did that, and most of the children here did too. "So who _are_ all of you?"

"Well, I'm Theo DuMedd," said Theo, jumping in, and then told her everyone else's names in turn. They had lots of questions, so many that Agatha almost couldn't ask all of hers, but she still heard quite a lot about their families and their lessons and what Baron Wulfenbach had been doing lately.

"Are you going to be a student here?" asked a boy from the edge of the crowd. His hair was brown and went wildly in all directions, his skin was light with a touch of gold, his clothes were a little too big for him, and he was holding onto a book protectively, like he thought someone might grab it. Theo hastily told her he was Gil Holzfäller, and a nice kid.

"I don't know," she said. "Uncle Barry came here to talk to Klaus. I mean, Baron Wulfenbach."

"Will he make him stop taking things over?" asked one of the oldest students, a serious twelve-year-old.

Agatha blinked. "I don't know that either. He just said they're friends."

Even though Agatha was not convinced anybody else knew more about it than she did, that topic lasted until three of the children Agatha's size started hitting each other, which shocked her, and somebody pinched Gil but she didn't see who. Madame Von Pinn made them stop and told them that it was time for little children to go to bed and take naps.

Agatha wasn't sure about this. She had taken naps, but usually while Uncle Barry was carrying her. And she didn't have a bed, of course. Madame Von Pinn didn't like this, but Agatha assured her that she had slept on the ground lots of times, and spreading out a blanket would be perfectly fine, and anyway the floor felt interesting. This wound up with half the other girls dragging their own bedding down to the floor to find out what she meant. Madame Von Pinn said it wasn't proper and began to pick them back up. Agatha told her it was an important life skill. Three of the other girls fell asleep during the ensuing discussion, and after an alarming crash from where the students older than ten were supposed to be reading about history, Madame Von Pinn decided the children lying peacefully on the floor weren't the ones who needed supervising. She left the doors to the bedrooms open and went away.

Agatha settled down. The floor really did feel interesting. It hummed, not exactly like Uncle Barry did, but still interestingly complicated, almost like music. She could feel it vibrating like when he hummed when he was carrying her. It didn't make her sleepy, though. It made her want to think about things.

She half listened to Madame Von Pinn's lessons for a few minutes, until she saw Gil Holzfäller creep out of the boys' room. Now that was even more interesting than the floor. Agatha got up and tiptoed to the door. She thought about getting her shoes, but Gil was barefoot and she thought about how the grownups' boots rang on the floors here, and padded after him silently.

He didn't go to the door where they'd come in. He went the other way from a classroom and slipped into an opening Agatha had thought was only a bit of shadow. She was impressed. Uncle Barry put secret passages in every building where they stayed more than a few days, and sometimes even into tents, but she hadn't spotted that one. She walked in after him, curious, and stopped in a dark spot while he worked a panel of the floor free and squeezed down into it. He didn't quite close it all the way after him, so it was easy for her to move it again when he was gone. She fit easily through the opening, too, feeling her way in the dark. After a brief close place everything opened up suddenly and she lost her grip on her handhold.

Agatha gasped - the floor was farther away than she expected - but she landed with only a little thump and realized she was in the web-type place again, on a flat piece of metal twice as wide as she was, which would be kind of narrow for Uncle Barry. She peered over the edge, then stood up and brushed down her skirt. There were two ways to go without climbing on anything she couldn't reach. She thought she saw an irregular shape in one direction and walked toward it, happy when she got closer and could see it was a leg, dangling from a metal bar above in the shadows. She patted the foot attached to it and whispered, "Hi!"

The foot twitched, hard, and then pulled up out of her reach. A moment later Gil's face peered down at her from the shadows. He was frowning slightly, more as if she was a puzzle to be solved than as if he was really angry. "What are you doing here?"

"Following you," Agatha said, even though that was pretty obvious from the evidence. She studied the bar he was sitting on, not sure if she could get onto it even if she jumped up to grab it. "I wondered where you were going."

He pulled back and then slid off the bar, landing next to her surprisingly quietly. He was still holding his book. "Just here," he said. He regarded her gravely. "I can show you more interesting places if you promise not to tell the others."

Agatha looked up at him, thinking. He didn't have to show her anything, of course, and she wouldn't know if she hadn't come looking for him, but Uncle Barry had impressed on her that she should ask why when people wanted her to promise things. "I'd like that. But why are they secrets?" she asked. "And if they're secrets why are you going to tell me?"

"I don't want the others to be able to find me when I'm trying to get away from them. But you already know my way out." He clutched his book to his chest, looking faintly disgruntled. "I thought maybe you'd keep that secret too if you promised."

"Oh. I won't tell them," said Agatha. "Whether you show me anything else or not." She liked the other children, but she didn't see any reason to help them find somebody who wanted to get away from them. "But I'd still like to see."

Gil smiled down at her, looking a little shy. "Okay. Thanks." He reached up and carefully balanced his book on the beam he'd been sitting on, then held out his hand. "Are you good at climbing?"

"I like climbing trees," Agatha said, putting her hand in his. "You're gonna be able to reach a lot more things than me, though."

"Yeah." He walked a little way down the piece of metal and then let go of her hand. Below them was another, identical metal walkway. Gil sat down on the edge of it and looked at her. "We have to jump here. I'll go first and catch you, okay?"

This seemed reasonable. "Okay." Agatha watched him carefully, trying to see how he landed so softly. She was sure the physics of it would make sense under analysis. Uncle Barry said most things did if you looked at them right. Then she sat in the same spot and pushed off.

Gil stumbled slightly as he caught her, holding onto her for balance for a moment after setting her on her feet, then let go and held his hand out to her again. The humming was getting louder here, vibrating through the metal they were standing on.

Agatha wiggled her toes against the flooring and grabbed his hand again. "Where are we?" she whispered, then repeated it a little louder because the words got lost in the hum. She brightened. "Ohh. Are those the engines? They'd have to be really big for this thing!"

Gil nodded. "We can see them by climbing down some scaffolding from the end of here. Do you want to try?"

"Yeah!" Agatha started eagerly forward, looking all around. Now that Uncle Barry wasn't carrying her, she could see downward much better, even though everything did fade into shadows and distant globes of light. Gil tugged back on her hand a little as they reached the end of the walkway, and she got down on her knees for a better look at the scaffolding. That wasn't bad at all. Probably more comfortable for grown-ups than the walkway, but the bars were close enough together for her.

Gil went first, with the ease of someone who had done this several times before, pausing to look up at her at intervals. "Is this like climbing trees?" he asked.

"Kind of," said Agatha. "Trees are rougher in texture and less regular." Her hand slid into the angle between two bars and got pinched, and she blinked back tears. "And with less corners."

Gil scrambled back up a few feet. "Are you hurt?"

"Only a little bit." Agatha showed him her hand. The pinch mark was red, but it wasn't too sore when she flexed it.

"Good. We're getting close to the bottom now," Gil said encouragingly.

Agatha nodded and peeked downward. He was right. The corners _were_ annoying, but she told herself triangles were a good structural choice and kept climbing.

The last few meters of scaffolding and the floor beneath it didn't just thrum with the working of the engines; they shook. Agatha stooped down to spread her hands on the floor for a moment, then got up, grinning. "This is _great_."

Gil took her hand again and pulled her across the shaking floor to a steel door. He carefully tapped at one of the rivets around the edge and then stood on tiptoes to reach the doorhandle. Once he'd pushed it ajar Agatha could catch a glimpse of a room full of pipes and cylinders, with pistons moving rhythmically between them. Gil bent down to say into her ear. "Be really careful, don't touch anything that's moving."

Agatha nodded, peering through the opening. Everything that was moving, was moving _very_ fast. "I'll be careful," she promised, and they edged inside.

It was hot in here, and it smelled a little like the grease Uncle Barry used and a little like woodsmoke and otherwise kind of awful, and it was so loud she almost couldn't think. But it was amazing and interesting and her eyes darted from one mechanism to another, trying to trace how it worked. Gil helpfully pointed out its features and what the parts were called, which required leaning down and nearly yelling in her ear, but Agatha didn't mind. When it got to be too much, she put her hands over her ears, and he nodded and took her back out, carefully pulling the door shut behind them.

Agatha beamed at him. "That was great. Where to next?" She stopped and frowned a little. "Or do you want to read your book now?" He _had_ said he was there to get away from people. Although not her, especially. But she was pretty sure it was too dark to read where he'd been sitting when she found him.

Gil grinned at her. "This is more fun." He looked around and picked a direction. "They're building a lab up this way, there shouldn't be anyone there now. But they leave all their tools behind." He added the last bit with the air of someone sharing a treasure trove.

Agatha brightened and followed him. "I've never been in a real laboratory," she confided. "I'm not supposed to mess with Uncle Barry's tools, either. Usually. He has some for me, but they're not as interesting."

"It's only half a laboratory so far," said Gil. "I haven't managed to get into any of the finished ones."

"I've never seen one being built before either. Just workshops." She looked up at him curiously. "You've explored a lot, haven't you?"

Gil nodded. "It's interesting."

Agatha thought about that for a little bit. "You spend a lot of time trying to get away from the other students?"

Gil looked down at his feet, scowling slightly. 'Yeah. 'Cause I don't have a family or anything."

Agatha frowned. This didn't seem to follow. "Uh, what?"

"It matters," said Gil. "They all like you because your family are famous. _And_ Sparks. The less important your family is the less people like you. And I don't have one."

"Oh." Agatha stopped walking, but she kept his hand. Gil stopped when she pulled back and looked at her. Uncle Barry had said they shouldn't say who they were when they were traveling because bad people were looking for her. He'd mostly meant the Geisterdamen, which was confusing, but he'd explained why eventually, even if it had been when she wanted to go to sleep. When they got to Mechanicsburg he'd said who they were himself. Everybody did seem to be very impressed. "Well... _I_ like you."

Gil smiled at her, face lighting up. "I like you too. I really hope you stay."

Agatha smiled back and squeezed his hand. "I don't know," she said. "Uncle Barry kept us moving almost all the time, but he said we were coming home."

"That would be Mechanicsburg, not here," said Gil. He sighed and then shook himself. "Come on, you might as well see the lab while you are here."

Uncle Barry _had_ been really glad to see Baron Wulfenbach, though. And Madame Von Pinn said she was supposed to take care of Agatha, but _she_ seemed to be staying at the school. Agatha wasn't sure what to think. "If I'm not staying here, maybe I can write you letters?" she said. She didn't know how yet, but she was starting to learn and anyway Uncle Barry would help. "But sure. I bet it'll be a really good lab."

The lab was mostly bare, steel floor and steel walls, with wires poking out of the walls in clumps. There were chains and cranks around some of the walls too, maybe for moving things that were being put into the lab or maybe for moving large experiments when it was done. Tool boxes were sitting by the door, and there were oily footprints around the doorway. Stacks of things they were presumably going to use - more tubes and wires, some gears ordered by size, were on the room's only table.

"They've brought more stuff in," Gil said, running over to examine the gears.

"Ooh." Agatha ran after him, but the table was too high for her to see the top when she was close. She looked up at the edge in exasperation, then spotted a crate and went to try to push it closer. It budged. Slightly. Gil came over to help, and even though he was bigger than her she was surprised by how easily he shoved the crate across to the table.

It put her just about at his height, which was _almost_ comfortable for looking at the table. Agatha crawled onto the table - carefully! - which made room for Gil to stand on the crate instead, so they could both inspect the equipment. Everything had little flying towers on it, like the dirigible. A lot of it had tiny writing, but she was still working on how to sound those things out at full size. "Baron Wulfenbach labels everything, doesn't he?"

"He really does," said Gil. "I guess he doesn't want anything getting lost?"

"There are trilobites all over Mechanicsburg, but I'm not sure they're on all the pieces." Agatha fitted a pair of gears together, thinking. "But I didn't really take anything apart to see."

"I think lots of Sparks put their sign on stuff," said Gil. "Um. Maybe not on all the pieces though. Baron Wulfenbach's really thorough."

"No kidding." She wondered what they were planning to make here. She was pretty sure there were enough pieces to make _something_, but right now it might be supposed to be part of the lab.

Gil pulled some cogs over himself, then a length of thick wire. He considered it a moment then pulled about an inch of it over the edge of the table and pinged it, getting a rather tinny note. "If we cut some lengths of this I bet we could make a music box," he said.

Agatha wrinkled her nose a little at the sound and then tried not to. It wasn't polite. And it _was_ a neat idea. She tapped two of the gears together with a soft _ding_, then set one down on the table and tried again. The sound was much duller, more of a _clink_. "I bet we can make the sound better with the right casing."

Gil jumped off the crate and went to grab one of the tool boxes, heaving it rather awkwardly onto the table before rummaging through it for a wire cutter. "We could try attaching them to another piece of wire, so they can vibrate more?" Gil suggested, uncertainly.

"Hmm..." Agatha stared at one of the walls for a moment, thinking about wires and about the resonant vibration of the walkways, and then started picking through the tools. "I think I have an idea."


	3. In Which Klaus Gets A Hug

Talking to Klaus felt a little like coming alive again, not that Barry personally had the experience. Like waking up, maybe, but it seemed like a long time since he'd felt this energised just starting the day. Like throwing the windows open. Like getting out of Mechanicsburg for the first time without their father, he thought wryly, and like coming home at the same time.

He'd been narrowly focused for so long - searching, fighting, trying to keep an eye on Bill, trying to keep Agatha safe, avoiding connections for fear of what might happen in his wake. Solving the problem currently breathing down his neck. Klaus had caught him off guard, reminding him that they had a lot more to worry about than that.

Barry... did not like the idea of forcing anybody to become part of something. It was wrong, it felt wrong, and moreover it struck him as asking for trouble. Like making somebody drink the Jägerdraught: if it worked, you got a tough, nearly immortal monster-soldier who was now _mad at you_. (This was actually not on the list of creative ways his relatives had found to kill themselves. Heterodynes were not big on common sense, historically, but they did avoid a few of the standard Sparky mistakes.) Or, say, coercing someone to marry you was not only evil but could get you poisoned by your wife. Just for example.

However, he'd never had a problem with the idea of hitting someone until they stopped causing trouble, even if he preferred to persuade with reason, words and example. He and Bill had still systematically avoided ruling anything except Mechanicsburg, either directly or through vassals - even if the people asked them to: partly out of personal distaste, which was still in play, and partly the keen awareness that as soon as they kept the lands of a defeated enemy, all of Europe would instantly conclude that was the reason they'd fought. Even then, they'd built defenses, negotiated treaties, arbitrated disputes, and set up communications to try to protect people who could govern themselves perfectly well but lacked the resources to fend off hostile neighbors or rampaging experiments.

Circumstances had changed. With so many of the Great Houses wiped out, there were even more leaderless threats than usual - even _aside_ from the wasps - and a sudden surfeit of individuals and villages who'd lost whoever they normally appealed to for administrative or military support. It was no wonder a lot of them were turning to Klaus. And it was no more wonder that he considered himself responsible for people who'd been forced to attack him. The House of Wulfenbach had collected an astonishing variety of secondhand monsters over the years for basically the same reason. Klaus was remarkably good at finding place and purpose for thinking constructs who had been ill-used - one way or another - by their Spark. Sometimes before they'd even got around to confronting the Spark himself. Barry still vividly remembered the shock that first time - they'd faced off against a platoon of intelligent gorilla-frogs and he'd heard Klaus ask them if they actually wanted to fight. And they hadn't.

It mattered to Barry that he not rationalize treating other people badly just because he didn't want to fight his friend. But he didn't actually think Klaus would go that far - at least, not with someone to challenge him on the lines between necessary, expedient, and completely irrational. Pretty much every Spark needed that. And Barry could make a significant difference to what was actually feasible.

After about an hour of supposedly reviewing where the surviving governments actually _were_, they were in reality wandering onto tangents about things like road systems and Klaus's theories about schooling and how to make Spark breakthroughs more survivable.

"I was hoping for a more elegant solution to childrearing than a cage," Klaus said. "Anyway, given your talents as an escape artist, I wouldn't expect it to _work_ on your family."

"It focuses the mind," Barry explained. "Why do you think we have three storage rooms full of lockpicks?"

"That was one of the many things I decided not to wonder about too-"

The door banged open to reveal Von Pinn, wide-eyed and white-lipped, entirely still but clearly not much calmer than when she'd hurled herself wailing first at the stone that had killed little Klaus and then at the nearest throat.

"What happened?" Klaus said, a note of command in his voice.

Von Pinn's gaze flicked between them. "Miss Agatha is gone. And Master Gil. I - I am _sorry_." She ended up looking at Barry, eyes wide and wild.

_Agatha._ And then, _Not again._ Barry felt as if his heart seized and stopped, but his thoughts sharpened and raced, twisting. He saw the color drain out of Klaus's face and his expression freeze - Gil was his, Barry was suddenly sure of it. Von Pinn was distraught but not fighting, which meant whoever had done it was out of reach. There had been no sign in the study of anything unusual going on. Distantly, he noted the thud of his next heartbeat. Only a change in subjective time, then. "What happened? We heard nothing."

"I was attending to some of the older children, and when I came back to check on Miss Agatha she was gone. I checked on the other children and Master Gil was gone as well. Nothing was disturbed."

Klaus took a deep breath. "We need to search the ship. They might simply have wandered off." His voice was steady, but he was pale enough Barry could see he was thinking of the other options. "Von Pinn, you stay here with the other children."

"Did any of them see anything?" Barry asked quickly. There was, he told himself, no conceivable way the Geisterdamen could have entered Castle Wulfenbach.

"No," said Von Pinn. "But no one was awake." She looked desperately unhappy about this.

"Ah. We'll find them," Barry said, telling himself as much as her. It had just better not take three years again. He followed Klaus out, listening, looking around. Trying to think where on a giant airship Agatha would want to go. What would interest her more than anything else. Under the circumstances she'd be a little spoilt for choice. "...They're being quiet. Is there anywhere Gil normally goes?"

"There's a place below the school he sometimes sneaks off to. I wouldn't have expected him to take Agatha, though," said Klaus. "We can start there."

Barry resisted his immediate impulse to vault the railing and figure out the rest from there. "Lead on, then."

The place under the school was a narrow catwalk, in deep shadow from the floor above it. Klaus ran his hand along a beam and came up with a book. "He was here," he said, sounding relieved. "Gil, at least, left the schoolroom of his own volition. It's likely both of them did."

Barry exhaled and looked at the book. Too dark to read it here, but probably the kid carried a lamp. "Agatha would probably have been too excited to sleep," he said. "So... kids. Yours, and Bill's..." A small, crooked smile. "Check the engines? And hope neither one got the notion to try taking them apart?"

"Probably the best place to start." Klaus shook his head and smiled back. "I suppose we can't complain. Maybe I should get Punch and Judy aboard, for their experience at getting _us_ out of trouble."

"Not a bad idea, but it would take a while." Barry started toward the thrum of the engines, not actually that far off, dropping to a lower catwalk after several steps. "They moved to Beetleburg a few years ago."

Klaus dropped to the catwalk after him, making it judder. "That would explain why I couldn't find them when I returned."

"Haven't been back to visit the university?" They were moving quickly, because small children and big engines were not the best combination and intelligence - especially that of prospective Sparks - might merely mean a different _kind_ of bad combination. But much of the initial horror had faded with Klaus's certainty that Gil left on his own. "I don't suppose you've had time. Even as fast as you work, you can't have arrived all that long after we left."

Klaus grimaced. "Almost at the same time, I think. Which has done nothing to help the rumours."

Barry rolled his eyes, from about the level of Klaus's feet as he started down the scaffolding at the end of the catwalk. "No, I imagine it wouldn't. _That_ at least, I can fix."

"If only by being helpfully alive," Klaus said, following him down.

"Oh, I can do better than that." Barry gave Klaus room to get around him to the engine room's door, but when opened, it revealed only engines. Very _nice_ engines, and with no evidence of blood or screaming, but also no evidence of children.

Not _present_ children. Something caught the edge of his attention; he paced a few steps, then leaned down and picked a fine red-gold hair from where it had caught against the wall.

"...I suppose we now know our children are smart enough not to tamper with the engines of an airship they are currently on. Which is better than we've done in the past," said Klaus. He rubbed his head. "Gil must have been showing her around - he's been wandering much farther than I realised if so. Where would he take a child he was trying to impress?" He looked at Barry. "Any idea what Agatha would be impressed by?"

"The entire ship," Barry said, aware that this was complimentary but unhelpful. "A lab?"

"The closest lab would be..." Klaus paused to recall the layout of the ship. "Unfinished, actually. But we might as well start with it. This way."

"That might be a _good_ sign. Things in progress are always interesting."

"Let's hope so."

Indeed. So far the evidence was encouraging but not exactly a guarantee of safety. Barry followed, thinking he really hoped both children were as surefooted as they believed themselves to be, and then paused and caught Klaus's arm to stop him. "Do you hear that?" Something faint, distinct from the noise of the ship itself.

"Yes," said Klaus doubtfully. "Is that music?"

Barry debated that for a moment. "It's musical _notes_," he said. The notes went up, skipped, then back down and steadily up again at semitone intervals. "It's a chromatic scale." He reached overhead and plucked a heavy wire cable, making it buzz briefly. "Played on electrical wiring." A sudden grin. "I think they're all right."

Klaus closed his eyes for a moment, looking limp with relief, and then returned Barry's grin. "Time to go and find out what they've made."

"And add music lessons to your curriculum," Barry suggested.

"I don't know if Von Pinn is particularly musical," Klaus said, sounding amused by the thought.

"She can play the harp, but she doesn't like it much. You'll need more teachers eventually anyway. We could always ask Lilith." At Klaus's mystified look, Barry clarified, "Judy. They wanted a little anonymity." Beetleburg was perhaps not the most obvious place to seek it, but Dr. Beetle accepted their wishes and much of the population was only there for a few years at a time. "So she might say no," he added, "but now that I'm not trying to hide Agatha, I should write to them, anyway."

"That's not a bad idea, if she is willing. I'd like to see them again, anyway," Klaus said. "Here we are," he added, unnecessarily, as they came to a door from behind which the chromatic scales could still be heard. He pushed it open.

They had certainly made themselves at home. Agatha was sitting cross-legged on the lone worktable. A boy only a few years older, with wild brown hair, was using a crate as a stool. A large tool box, a variety of wires and gears, and possibly some pieces of the wall paneling were on the table with Agatha, and much of the material had gone into a partial box they were both leaning into, containing a system of wires clamped taut at different lengths from a metal bar.

Both children looked up at the sound of the door. Gil shrank back against the table, eyeing them warily from behind his mop of hair. Agatha launched herself off the tabletop and ran to Barry, beaming. "Uncle Barry! Baron Wulfenbach! I met a new friend, he's Gil Holzfäller, come and see what we're making!"

Barry caught Agatha up reflexively, then paused, looking at Gil - _Holzfäller?_ - and then inquiringly at Klaus before striding over to the table and setting Agatha back on it. "Hi, Gil. I'm Barry Heterodyne. You had us a little worried, but I'm glad to see you're all right."

"Hi," mumbled Gil, looking up at him.

Barry smiled at him, which Gil appeared to consider another overwhelming aspect of the situation, and then turned seriously to Agatha. "I really am _very_ glad to see you're all right," he told her. "There are people who'd like to take you away and hurt you, and I was afraid at first some of them could have done it. Or that you'd be injured climbing around here. It scared Madame Von Pinn pretty badly not to be able to find you, too."

Agatha squirmed a little. "We didn't do anything dangerous."

"You were in the engine room," Klaus said. "Gil, you know it is forbidden to leave the school. Much less take a younger student into places like that."

"We didn't _touch_ the engines," Agatha argued.

"Sorry," said Gil. "...is Madame Von Pinn all right?"

Barry looked at Gil. "She's... _distressed_. She lost the first little boy she was supposed to be taking care of, through no fault of her own, and I think we'd better go ahead and tell her we've found you both."

Klaus picked up the box from the table and tucked it under his arm. "Yes. I think we'd all better return to the school."

Gil nodded, looking stricken. "I didn't mean to upset her. I thought I'd be back before she noticed."

Agatha, too, had wilted a little at this information. Barry caught her as she tried to jump from the table again, and they began the walk back. She didn't argue about being able to walk this time, but she did start peering down from his arms again. "I didn't think the walkways were big enough for you," she remarked.

Barry tried desperately not to laugh and had to clear his throat before he could speak. "We have a lot of practice."

They returned to the school, two rather chastened children in tow, to find the rest of the students awake and, not unreasonably, treating Von Pinn with kid gloves. Agatha, on the other hand, rushed up to her and said she was _very_ sorry to have upset her but she'd gone looking for secret passages and nobody had been in any danger. (Barry considered disputing this last point but decided it wasn't worthwhile.)

Then Agatha _hugged_ her, and Von Pinn froze, both clawed hands poised as if she had no idea what to do with them, before gingerly lowering them and patting Agatha on the shoulder. "Child, you must-" She paused, then looked up and met Barry's eyes. "Will she be enrolled in the school?"

Agatha let her go and whirled around. "Will I? I know most of the students said they're hostages, but I think it would be really fun!"

"It's not actually meant to be an unpleasant experience," said Klaus drily.

Several of the students looked various shades of embarrassed or alarmed. Barry noted one boy with a distinct resemblance to the Iron Sheik, an old friend and not a particularly near neighbour, so there was at least _one_ student there - probably - for the education, academic and otherwise, and as diplomatic support. He arched an eyebrow at Klaus. "We may have to have a talk about these matriculation policies," he said, straight-faced, "but I'm sure Agatha would be quite safe here." He crouched down to meet her eyes. He was reluctant to let her out of his sight, especially so young and having been among the Geisterdamen, but he'd _seen_ she was craving the company of other children, even before the light in her eyes now. "But I can't send you here if you're just going to ignore the rules."

"It was Holzfäller," blurted one of the students. "He's always trouble."

"I followed him all my own self," Agatha snapped, rounding on her. She turned back to Barry, frowning. "Do I have to say I'm sorry, to come?"

Barry put his eyebrows up again. "_Are_ you sorry?"

Agatha huffed. "I'm sorry I upset Madame Von Pinn and worried you," she said, but then added frankly, "but not that I followed Gil. I didn't get to talk to him much before that and it was a lot of fun."

Barry lowered his head for a moment, fighting a smile. He couldn't quite blame her for that. "I appreciate the honesty," he said, "and I'm glad you're making friends, and I'm very glad you were careful. But you're still going to have to understand and follow the rules if you're going to go to school here. The people taking care of you need to know where you are so we can keep you safe. If you disappear, we can't just assume you're okay and leave it at that." He shot Klaus a wry look. "It's pretty worrying when grown-ups do it, too."

"Indeed it is," Klaus said, just as drily.

Agatha considered this. "So if we say where we're going, can we go?"

"Not necessarily. You have to ask."

Barry was expecting further argument on this point, but Agatha looked up at Klaus and asked instead, "Is Baron Wulfenbach keeping our music box?"

"Well," Barry said reasonably, "you _did_ make it out of his things, didn't you?"

"How about a bargain," Klaus suggested, bending down to meet Agatha's eyes. "You and Gil can have it back to finish, if I get to look at it once you're done."

"Yay!" - which presumably meant yes, and Barry ducked his head and did chuckle at that. He looked up in time to catch Agatha looking suddenly uncertain. "I'm not sure the sound quality's ever going to be _very_ good though," she said reluctantly.

"Considering that material was meant for building a laboratory I'm impressed you got recognisable notes," said Klaus. "If I'd known you were going to build a music box I'd have provided better materials."

"Does that mean we can have materials to build things?" Theo asked, looking hopeful.

"If you can all manage a little patience I'll provide a teaching lab," Klaus told him.

"That means you should probably avoid taking it apart while he's trying to build it," Barry threw in.

Agatha was beaming by this point. "You _are_ nice," she said, and flung her arms around Klaus's neck while he was still in range.

Klaus stiffened and threw Barry a 'what do I do now?' look, before patting her back carefully.

Barry didn't think that was quite it, so he went over, scooped Agatha up in one arm so Klaus could straighten, and slung his other arm around Klaus's shoulders. He restrained the impulse to actually hand Agatha to him just to see the look on everyone's face. "I've always liked him, myself."

Gil watched Agatha, looking a little awed, as Klaus gave in to the proximity and awkwardly hugged her back.

Barry seriously considered trying to come up with an excuse to grab Gil too, but couldn't think of one. Agatha squirmed at that point, so that Barry rather hastily let her down, and _she_ darted over to hug Gil around the waist. "We get to finish the music box," she informed him, gleefully and completely unnecessarily.

Gil shot some of the other students a wary look, as if he expected them to somehow take the music box - or possibly Agatha - away from him before it could happen, and then gave in and smiled. "Yes," he said, hugging back.

"If all of you can try to stay put for now," Barry said, "Klaus and I have a few more things to discuss. Agatha, we'll be going back to Mechanicsburg for tonight, but I'll plan on enrolling you here." A raised eyebrow. "If you think you can behave."

Agatha smiled at him. "Yes, Uncle Barry."

Klaus set the music box down and asked Von Pinn to get them some tools so they could stay "busy and out of trouble" for a while, before following Barry back across the hall and into his study.

"So," Barry said, once they were in private again, "obviously you decided to keep Gil anonymous." But Gil's own reactions... Slowly, he added, "But just _how bad_ is the amnesia?"

"Worse than I realised at first," Klaus said. "He doesn't remember Skifander at all. Which might be just as well... At least he isn't missing his sister." Klaus sighed. "He's aware he was the first of the children to be here, he remembers travelling with me vaguely, but he also knows some of the other students are orphans I picked up."

Barry tried to imagine having that much missing, and whether even at seven, it would be possible to avoid realising something was terribly wrong. He failed. After a long look at Klaus, he said, "And you haven't told _him_ he's yours, either."

"The less people know the more chance it has of remaining a secret," Klaus answered.

Barry rubbed his forehead. "Possibly true," he conceded, "but you're keeping even more of his past from him than he actually lost. And if he doesn't miss _you_, anyway, I'll be astonished."

"He hasn't shown any sign of expecting a closer relationship with me than I have with any of the other students. I think if he really remembered..."

"He's seven," Barry said quietly. "You're in charge of his entire world, and you've told him his name is Holzfäller and not treated him like _you_ expect a closer relationship. Haven't you?" He shook his head. "That could make somebody doubt a lot more solid memories than it sounds like he's got." He wondered sometimes if he was telling Agatha too much of the truth or not enough, and he often _hoped_ she'd just forget the Geisterdamen with time and the changed world. She still seemed to remember all too well, but with no reminders, maybe...

"I want to keep him safe. Being confused won't kill him. Being known as my son might," said Klaus firmly.

Barry opened his mouth, thought, _He already lost him once_, and shut it to let out a long sigh through his nose instead of speaking. "I don't blame you for worrying," he said quietly. "But I still think you'd both be better off if he knew."

Klaus shook his head. "I'll consider it. But if I tell him I won't be able to take it back, and it's not something to do in haste."

And relying on a seven-year-old who'd just decided to give a new-met friend a tour of the ship to keep secrets was perhaps not exactly reassuring. Barry grimaced. It still didn't feel right, but he wasn't sure what he'd do in Klaus's place. "Are you having a lot of trouble with assassins?"

"Less so now I've got hostages from some of the families that were trying it the most. But yes," said Klaus. "I'm not sure whether you joining me will cut down on that or lead to people trying to assassinate you. Sorry if it's the latter. I'm _hoping_ it's the former."

"So do I," Barry said, "but I'll manage either way."

Klaus smiled. "I know you will."


	4. Castle Heterodyne is a Terrible Patient

Mechanicsburg was full of people who sort of drifted towards them as they walked through it. It wasn't exactly a parade, or a welcome party, just that everyone who possibly could find a reason to be walking their way somehow was. Then the Jägers showed up and that was it for subtlety, because Jägers had never had much use for that to begin with, so they just followed Barry along keeping up a cheerful stream of chatter and...taking bets on how many of the TPU people were still alive? Klaus sort of hoped Barry had missed that.

He hadn't. Barry turned and grabbed the nearest Jäger's arm. "Hang on," he said. "Dimo. You think any of them might _not_ be dead?"

"Vell, it vas makink dem fix it," said Dimo. "Mebbe it decided to keep dem 'til it vas sure hyu vas goink to help."

"It-" Barry stared at him for a moment, then let him go and snarled, "Of _course_ it was." He sped up. "Castle," he barked. "The research party from Transylvania Polygnostic. Do you still have them?"

"Oh, yes." As always the voice sounded weirdly close, as if the Castle could somehow project itself into an invisible presence right by the ear of the person it was addressing. "But now you're here there's no need for contractors."

Barry's head jerked upward, and his voice rang with harmonics that would have prompted the population of many towns to back away slowly, or possibly run full out. "_You will release them immediately, alive and unharmed._"

"Oh, _fine_," said the Castle sulkily. "You're _no fun at all_."

"_Thank_ you." Barry sounded deeply sarcastic. He _looked_, when he met Klaus's eyes, more subtly relieved and a little haunted. Then he turned away to find the nearest non-Jäger (which took some doing, given their current surroundings) and ask her to see to getting somebody with soup, blankets, and medical supplies to the nearest gate.

The research party was emerging from the gate as they reached it, squinting against the sunlight, their clothing in rags. Barry clapped a hand on the young professor's shoulder and got a start and then a look of total shock.

"Y-you!"

Barry arched an eyebrow. "Me," he agreed. "Don't know what you were thinking, here. I'm expecting enough trouble as it is. Go get some dinner and clean up, all right?"

"They were attempting to discover our secrets while you were gone and I was...less able than usual to protect them. You should have let me squish them a little," said the Castle. "I can still reach from here if you'd let me hit them with a few bricks?"

"No," said Barry. He gestured Klaus in, and the door shut behind them with an unnecessarily theatrical grinding noise and boom. "I'm going to be very nice to them... and I'll consider guilting them about being nosy afterward."

"Hmph," said the Castle, its tone implying it didn't think much of that plan at all. Possibly it just objected to being nice to people on principle.

"So, where are we starting?" Klaus asked.

"Library," said Barry. "The Castle should be able to-"

"Oh dear." The Castle sounded unexpectedly concerned. "I don't recommend that."

Barry paused. "Why not?"

"I-" The Castle's voice dropped, as if it were terribly ashamed. "I _can't see it._"

"Oh." Barry patted a doorframe absently, then hoisted a death ray and calmly vaporized a giant spiked hammer as it fell toward them. Klaus felt a hot fine film of debris mist down over them. "It's all right. That's part of what we're here to fix."

"Why do we need to get to the library?" Klaus asked.

"Because from there we should be able to figure out where the most serious damage is." Barry glanced at a cracked floor, the other side of it sloping dismally away. "Not necessarily the obvious architectural problems. The Castle's consciousness and control mechanisms."

"The Castle's consciousness is in the library?" Klaus asked. He'd always wondered where, exactly, the Castle's mind was. But the Castle itself tended to be against anyone asking questions, and he suspected Bill and Barry had avoided the subject out of respect for its feelings more than any real disinclination to tell him. He might just be about to find out, though.

Barry paused. "Yes and no. The part we're talking to now, for instance, isn't."

"Right." The part they were talking to couldn't _see_ the library, and was upset about it. Did that make sense? If you cut off the part where its consciousness was, surely it would be able to see the library and nowhere else? But from what Barry had just said it sounded like there might be a different bit that could see the library. Hmm. "More than one centre of consciousness, or the whole thing is one big consciousness?" he asked quietly. Either they had more than one Castle to deal with in different parts or...they had more than one Castle to deal with in different parts, only it had been fragmented by having something blow up _inside_ its brain.

"Normally the latter," Barry said. "You can see why it's having problems. Fortunately," he added, "last time I was in the library, things _were_ working well enough that I think we can get some information there."

Klaus nodded. He'd never imagined feeling sorry for Castle Heterodyne before. "Once we have somewhere to start we should be able to start reconnecting things."

"And once it has full conscious control again - and enough power -" Barry glanced up at the ceiling and then stepped aside, pulling Klaus with him, as a series of stones smashed down. He jumped across a gap in the floor and headed for the next doorway. "Well, after a certain point it'll do the rest of the repairs _itself_."

"I know trying to kill us is its favourite hobby," said Klaus, dodging as another gap opened beneath his feet. "But you'd think it wouldn't do this to the people who are here to fix it."

"Unfortunately a lot of this is probably reflexive." Barry looked back to make sure Klaus was all right, then glanced upward and added, "Although if any of it _isn't_, you can cut it out _any time now_."

"Some of the traps have developed minds of their own," said the Castle, sounding a little sheepish. "Watch out for the fun-sized mobile agony and death dispensers."

"Thanks for the warning," Barry said, sounding slightly rattled. "Do you know where they _are_?"

"I've lost them," said the Castle.

"Great. I appreciate the warning." Barry shot Klaus a rueful look. "Thanks for coming, I'll try not to get you killed."

"Watch out for yourself as well. Getting killed by Castle Heterodyne would be a much more embarrassing way for you to die than for me," said Klaus.

Barry snorted. "I'll try to avoid it."

"You'd better," the Castle grumbled. "I was hoping for your brother to come back with you, you know."

That got a wince. "Yeah, me too."

Klaus patted Barry's shoulder and left it unsaid that he had too.

Barry shot him a grateful look and forged ahead. At the next doorway, the Castle warned them that they were about to enter a dead zone, where the traps would be entirely uncontrolled. That was, predictably, exciting. The next section of the Castle's divided mind was almost comically surprised to see them.

The library, when they reached it, was much dustier than Klaus remembered, a condition that was not helped when Barry started rolling up the rug. "Hopefully this does still work," Barry said. "A little help here?"

Klaus moved forward, but the Castle apparently took this as addressed to it. "With _him_ here?" it asked.

Barry sat back on his heels. "Yes, with him here," he said testily. "He's come in to help us."

Klaus wasn't sure whether to say anything. He was indeed there to help, but it seemed unlikely the Castle would believe him if it didn't believe Barry.

"You _want_ to be fixed, don't you?" Barry shoved the carpet back on his own, since the Castle wasn't helping, to reveal a complex of colored lights. After some irritable flicking of switches, a skeletal model of Castle Heterodyne took shape, limned in fuzzy green and looking as unfinished as the current interior of Castle Wulfenbach. "Anyway, you like him. Better than you like me, sometimes. So cooperate." He poked at the green framework, and several spots turned a grudging yellow.

Klaus had a moment of thinking they should have brought Doctor Sun, even though his medical expertise was no use on architecture, simply for his vast experience at making uncooperative patients behave. Then he knelt down and looked at the map, following the lines of it with fascination. "Are the fuzzy bits the parts you can't see from here?" he asked the Castle.

"I cannot focus very well at all," the Castle complained. "But yes."

Barry waved a hand through the light at a point Klaus recognised as the library itself, in one of the clearest sections. "It normally looks a lot better than even the best sections of this. But the yellow marks - could you make those red, please? They just look like you're having polarisation trouble - that's better. The red marks are breaks in control and communication." He peered at it for a moment, then gestured to a ball of red fuzz with lines radiating from it like blood poisoning. "That would be where Lucrezia's labs were. Architecturally they're more intact than that looks."

"Work outwards, starting with the nearest red sections?" Klaus asked.

Barry nodded. "We'll want to check back periodically. The map should improve as we go."

The map did improve with their every return to the library, gaining detail, colour, and frequently new and different sets of red highlights. The range through which the Castle and its subsystems refrained from attacking them also improved, although it kept arguing with Barry over whether Klaus should really be allowed to survive knowing this much about it, and then suggesting he should be consigned quietly to life as an experimental subject if Barry was too fond of him to kill.

"I'm not going to kill him," Barry finally snapped at it, "and I'm not going to let you kill him, maim him, trap him, or whatever other sadistic options you happen to think are funny. He is my friend. _You_ are going to listen to me, and you are going to keep him alive and well and safe as long as he's in your range of influence. As diligently as if he were a member of the family, do you understand me? And the same goes for his son."

"Wait, you're telling the _Castle_? What part of secret didn't you understand?"

"And you won't tell anybody he has one," Barry added promptly. "Including the boy himself. It's Castle Heterodyne, Klaus. It's generally reluctant to tell people things. Anyway, at some point he might want to visit, although I admit at the moment it's hard to see why."

"I'm sure the book has a chapter on keeping your child away from malevolent architecture," Klaus muttered. "And it's careful with your secrets. _I'm_ likely to get blackmailed."

"You've actually talked me into helping you take over Europe," Barry said, blithely and not completely accurately. By this point he sounded much calmer, though his voice still rang oddly off the stone. "I'm not sure there's anything else it could actually think to ask you for."

"How old is the boy?" the Castle put in at this point. "It sounds as if he might have potential as a consort for the Lady Agatha..."

Barry stared at the ceiling. "_Agatha_ is _four_."

"I am five hundred and eighty," the Castle pointed out. "There is nothing wrong with thinking ahead."

"At least the pressure's off you now it's moved on to the younger generation," suggested Klaus, trying not to laugh.

"He should pay more attention to continuing the line, too," the Castle shot back. "Preferably with someone more cooperative than the last two Heterodynes' wives."

"I will try not to marry anyone who wants to kill me," Barry said, offering Klaus a highly unconvincing mock-glare, then rolled his eyes and rapped on the floor. "Or destroy Europe, although I suppose generally speaking that would be a plus for getting along with you."

Klaus still wasn't impressed with Barry's secret-keeping abilities, and the fact that Castle Heterodyne evidently wasn't _either_ was small consolation. Its apparent conviction that his son would be an ideal match for the Heterodyne girl was simultaneously unsettling and oddly flattering.

He was distracted by the repairs before long. Barry was droning away again, which tended to shut out both ambient noise and in some cases distracting thoughts, and then there was the uneasy interlude in Lucrezia's laboratories. Klaus was sure they could no longer smell of either blood or perfume, but the odor pressed on him anyway, like having a song caught in his head. As for Castle Heterodyne's fears about letting him see its vulnerabilities, in all honesty he was only growing more impressed. Especially by the entire room full of "fun-sized" tiger clanks surrounding one of the last breaks. (To be fair, Klaus agreed that they were likely to be a lot of fun if you were doing the aiming.)

As they made their way back to the library again, the Castle's chatter was growing more peculiar. It reported massive gains in perception and control, but it also reported having discovered new areas occupied by insane fragments of itself. In some cases, they could hear two fragments reporting the same conflict from opposite sides. And some sections kept breaking into music to, supposedly, entertain them while it was busy.

Barry was frowning by the time they got to the library, now with a gleamingly detailed map that flickered alarmingly in large chunks. "That's the last of the control breaks, but you're still having problems," he remarked, after the dying screams of the latest orchestral arrangement.

"Parts of me are resisting reintegration," the Castle agreed.

"Yes." Barry was pacing the edges of the library - not exactly a short walk, and full of random obstacles, as the Heterodynes had obviously considered the library one of many excellent locations to display potentially lethal trophies, artwork, and bric-a-brac. "And they'd probably say the same of you. I think I might have to shut you down."

"I am not broken beyond recovery," said the Castle, sounding rather alarmed.

"Temporarily!" Barry said. "Then enough of a power jolt and I think you should come back up... less internally conflicted."

There was a tense pause. "I am not sure I believe that having shut me down you would willingly return me to a functioning state. You have _never_ liked me."

Barry huffed and brushed a hand through the map again, scattering complicated rainbow-edged shadows across the ceiling. "Mutual," he said drily.

"I will not allow you to shut me down," the Castle told him.

"Don't you have to obey Heterodynes?" Klaus asked it, keeping his voice carefully level.

"Not if the family would be better served otherwise. I have always been the Heterodynes' last and best defence. Allowing myself to be destroyed would not serve the family's interests."

"No, it wouldn't," Barry said evenly. "You're murderous, sadistic, obnoxious, and your likely influence is one of several reasons I want Agatha spending time outside Mechanicsburg. But I have a town and a niece to protect - and I do realise I actually need you." A quiet snort. "Especially since I'm probably going to start annoying people shortly."

"I do approve of your plan to take over Europe," said the Castle. The library doors were trembling slightly, as if it was resisting the urge to slam them. "And your assessment of me is flattering. But I do not wish to be shut down."

Barry rolled his eyes but confined his response to the last part. "I can't imagine it's a comfortable thought, but how long do you think the integration problems will last otherwise?"

"I don't _know_. Nothing like this has ever happened to me before."

And now Klaus was feeling sorry for it again. The Heterodynes tended towards overengineering their creations to an extent that made them almost indestructible. This was one of their more sensible traits, in Klaus's opinion, but it must be hard for the Castle to find itself vulnerable after five hundred years of nothing getting past its walls.

"I do need you," Barry told it, "but I need you _functional_. You know that."

"Yes," the Castle agreed. The library doors stopped trembling and remained open, but they looked tense. If doors could look tense. "I am very low on power, though. There may not be enough left for a jolt."

"Okay," Barry said, "that's certainly important to know. I'll check the lightning collectors, but it sounds like something's wrong with your primary power source. So this time you're going to have to tell me where it is."

"Please wait for a moment." Inexplicable music, which suggested that Barry's ancestors had considered captured enemies a type of instrument, played briefly. "You'll have to take a lift down from here." A node on the map lit up. "It is currently in an area possessed by another fragment of myself, but we have communicated and it understands the situation."

"Did it by any chance mention what kind of damage we're looking at?" Barry eyed the map. "That's fairly deep. If we're going to need specialised equipment, I'd like to go ahead and collect it instead of improvising with whatever's lying around in a critical location." Klaus cleared his throat softly, and Barry added as an afterthought, "Or making a second trip."

"You will be fixing a damaged waterwheel. I believe the axle is broken," said the Castle reluctantly.

"This place can't possibly be water powered," said Klaus flatly.

Barry looked thoughtful. "There are some... _interesting_ stories about the Dyne," he said. "And a lingering reluctance to touch it that is adequately but perhaps not completely explained by the possibility that the fish will eat you."

"Yes," said the Castle. "The Dyne is more than water, or it was. At its source it still is. You will see for yourselves soon."

A couple of hours later, they had reset the lightning collectors (so that was what those were) and gone out to collect equipment, plus several of the most curious Jägers for potential assistance with heavy lifting, and now Barry was leaning perilously close to a surging spring of water that was _actually glowing blue_. It lit the cavern and shone through the stone that curved around it like a broken eggshell. "This explains _so much_."

"It really does," said Klaus. Like how the Heterodynes had risen to power centuries before the invention of the power sources that gave most Sparks the power to compete with the old warlords.

"The Castle, the Jägers, the ducks..." Barry actually reached down, and Klaus grabbed him by the shoulders and yanked him back before he could dip a hand in the water. Barry looked up at him in bewilderment, the blue reflecting in his eyes and an alarming grin on his face, and shook him off to go back to it. "Stop that."

"If the water here were not the problem, I'd be dumping a bucket of it over you about now," said Klaus. "Ninety percent risk of horrible death?"

Barry paused, still leaning on a piece of eggshell-curved stone, and then - much to Klaus's relief - turned away. "Point taken. Thanks." He waved a hand at the machinery. "This shouldn't be too hard to put back together after all. I can even think of a few improvements. But speaking of the water, something troubles me." He walked downstream of the wheel and out across a bridge dotted with turquoise-luminescent mushrooms, staring down to where the water roiled gleaming around the supports. "I don't believe anybody's reported an uptick in waterfowl with giant teeth over the past few years."

"And even in Mechanicsburg I think that would be noticed." Klaus followed him, trying to find the point where the eerily glowing water became just water. "Is the Castle storing the energy somewhere?"

"Apparently not." Barry gestured at the banks of turtle-shaped energy storage devices. "Not that it knows about, anyway. But in that case, where is it going and how?" He stared hard at the water. "I think there has to be something in the riverbed," he concluded. "But we can't get at it with the water like this. At least it's downstream."

"We'd better get the waterwheel up and running," said Klaus. "Afterwards we might be able to take a look."

"Yes." Barry dragged his attention away from the water again. At least he didn't propose a swim. "Let's get to that. Jorgi, Dimo..."

At Barry's signal, the Jägers he'd invited along practically jumped into the job. The equipment they'd carried down unfolded with only a little adaptation, and after a few hours, considerable incidental hilarity, and only two near-falls into the spring (Barry, much to Klaus's exasperation, and Maxim) the great wheel slotted back into place on its new axle and began turning. A series of blue lights clicked on through the machinery leading from it, and the glow began to dim downstream, as if the wheel's shadow were growing.

"You can be smug about the safety equipment now, if you like," Barry said.

"Maybe later," said Klaus. "Now that the Castle is fully powered we'd better get on with making it some approximation of rational."

"I think I've worked out how," Barry said. "It will be a little fiddly to build, but it's ultimately just transdimensional harmonics."

They took the lift back up to far more brightly lit rooms than they'd left, and Barry began drawing diagrams for his new device and passing them to Klaus, who usually passed them back with suggested changes, annotations, or occasionally incredulous comments scribbled on them. It took a few rounds before Klaus was satisfied it wasn't going to have any deleterious effect on _organic_ brain function. He suspected Barry would have been fine one way or another - and then caught himself up, because however hard it could be to imagine anything _really_ happening to Bill or Barry, he knew damned well it could and _had_ - and he'd sent the Jägers back out again, but Klaus didn't relish having to be revived again any more than the Castle did.

Barry eventually stopped humming and tapped his wrench against the base of what looked, frankly, like a very large lamp. "I think we're ready. Castle, how are your power levels?"

"Decent," said the Castle. "And what will that do, precisely?" It sounded nervous, and was trying to hover a brick out of Barry's line of sight.

"What we talked about," Barry said. "Produce a transharmonic pulse to temporarily knock you out. And by the way, you are not the - actually you probably _were_ the first to try to sneak up and hit me on the head, but the point is, I can tell."

"...I was _going_ to hit your lamp thing if I decided against this," said the Castle, but it dropped the brick.

"It's not a lamp," Barry said. "And that would have been unusually considerate of you."

"Klaus might have turned it on while I was knocking you out," said the Castle.

"Why Castle," Barry said in mock surprise, "you're learning from _us_." He and Bill _had_ long maintained that in some cases this was in fact an entirely practical reason for taking out the doomsday device rather than the Spark wielding it.

"I've never doubted your intelligence, no matter how deficient I find your loyalty and ambition," the Castle returned.

"Thank you so much." Barry rested a hand on the lamp. Klaus told himself to stop thinking of it that way. "I've actually set this up to trigger the electrical pulse as well afterward, with a minimal delay. You won't be out for long."

There was a long pause during which Klaus feared for both them and the not-a-lamp and then the Castle sighed. "Very well."

Barry pressed his hand down. Klaus felt as if all the sound in the world suddenly just _stopped_, with a strange heavy inward pressure against his ears and mind. The lights went out.

The pressure stopped.

Barry counted under his breath.

There was a crack of thunder, all the lights blazed up at once, and blue sparks raced across the stones of the floor.

Barry grinned triumphantly. "Feeling better?"

"Yessss," said the Castle, managing to sound ominous despite the innocuous question and the fact that it almost certainly wasn't planning on doing anything. "I believe I am fully repaired."

"Good to hear." Despite the mutual irritation, Barry sounded genuinely relieved. There was a distant grind and boom of stone. "So." He wandered over and rested a hand against the wall. "What do you remember about the attack?"

"There was an explosion...the areas near the explosion were cut off. I could not see...or respond." The Castle was quiet for a moment, then added slowly. "I am sorry for my failure in protecting your nephew."

Barry sighed, tilting his head back and gazing a little blankly at the wall. "I know you would have saved him if you could."

"For a time it seemed the family was gone. I am glad you are not," the Castle replied. Then, more cheerfully, "You will have to bring the young lady here. Even if you wish to raise her elsewhere, she should still be tested."

Barry grimaced. "There's no doubt in my mind that she's Bill's."

"It seems unlikely you would be mistaken, but she cannot be recognised as the Heterodyne without certainty," said the Castle.

"Testing?" Klaus asked in an undertone.

"Blood test," Barry said. "It... tastes... every child of the family. Normally when we're too young to remember, I think." He spread his right hand and tilted it until the light caught the tracery of work-scars, then ran one finger along a very faint one in the web of the thumb. "No serious damage, obviously. I'm not sure Agatha's going to be thrilled about sticking her hand in a giant mechanical mouth, though." Nor, perhaps, was it the sort of behavior one generally wanted to encourage in a child.

"A way to be absolutely certain of bloodline is practical," Klaus mused. "But does your family have to do everything in the most disturbing way possible? What's wrong with a syringe?"

"Lacks style," Barry said, in a tone that was either deadpan sarcasm or the honest product of an aesthetic sense developed... well, here.

"And that would be terrible," Klaus answered, equally deadpan.

"We could skip carpeting the Chapel floor with skulls this time, though, if you don't mind," Barry added, eyes flicking upward.

"I only do that with false Heterodynes," the Castle answered.

"And there are plenty of those already, but do they have to be on the _floor_?"

"There wasn't any more room on the walls."

"...I can believe that," Barry admitted. Then, "Listen. About the attack." His voice hardened. "It was Lucrezia's doing. As were the attacks on forty-odd other Spark houses around Europe, and the slaver wasps, if you've been hearing any of the news. Bill and I found her." He swallowed. "She's responsible for little Klaus's death, and Bill's, as well as the damage to you. I believe her plan was to copy her own mind into Agatha's and take her over."

The Castle hissed. It was a deeply unnerving sound, and not just because it made Klaus think of gas leaks. "She is dead?"

"Yes." Barry swallowed. "But in case that somehow doesn't stick - in case she _already_ made a copy of herself somehow, that I don't know about - I want you to keep watch for anyone who could be her. And anyone you recognise as having _served_ her. And any Geisterdamen, although I wouldn't really expect them to turn up in town. If you notice any such person, I want them detained, as quietly as possible and without disturbing the tourists. Get Carson to help, and tell me." Grimly, "Don't kill them if you can avoid it. I'll want to question them."

"I shall make sure the torture chambers are prepared," answered the Castle.

"That's not - actually, you know, what the hell. Go ahead."

Klaus gave Barry a look. Not that he really expected his friend to go through with torturing anyone, even Lucrezia. Perhaps especially Lucrezia, when they'd known her as a friend, whatever she was now. "Perhaps we should go somewhere that's less of a bad influence?" he suggested drily.

"I may need to scare somebody," Barry said darkly, then closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, he looked... more like himself. "Not a bad idea, though," he said wryly. "Even if I _am_ going to be living here."

"If you'd care to get ready by the main doors, we _do_ have one last thing to do to celebrate your return," said the Castle, tone gleeful.

"I suppose we do," Barry said, sounding resigned. "Well, Carson's certainly had time to see to warning the tourists." A thoughtful pause. "Not that that necessarily means they _left_."

"If they decided to stick around to see what the Doom Bell sounds like, that's their lookout," said Klaus. He wasn't looking forward to hearing it himself, but at least he knew what he was in for and could probably avoid actually falling over.

"I wouldn't be overly surprised if Carson charged them for staying," Barry said drily. They both glanced up as the Castle made a sound that might have been a giggle. Or perhaps just a gurgle somewhere in the reconstituted plumbing. "All right, let's go."


	5. In Which Agatha Attempts a Diagnosis

The Doom Bell struck through Barry, as it had ever since he was fourteen, with a sense of fierce loss and fiercer potential. He spent a few minutes talking with the town elders, many of whom insisted on teasing Klaus about appointing them to the town council, then left _them_ to explain to the recovering tourists why there was a dragon rampaging through the streets exhorting them all to REJOICE.

He grinned a little wryly at Klaus once they were on their way back up to Castle Wulfenbach. "You're getting used to it, aren't you."

"The Doom Bell? It's been a while since I last heard it, actually, but I remembered it well enough to brace myself."

"Well, it would have had to be several years, yes." The Doom Bell didn't ring unless the Heterodyne was there. "But you might be the first person who doesn't _live_ here to actually stay upright."

"Is Agatha going to have to develop a tolerance for it? Or do Heterodynes have some sort of natural immunity?" Klaus's fascination with the quirks of various Spark bloodlines - and the Heterodynes had more than most - was familiar.

Barry contemplated the question for a moment before determining that he didn't actually have sufficient evidence. "I'm not sure. Maybe a little of both. It rings for births, so it's one of the first things most of us feel." Not hear. It was sound, of course, but it wasn't _mostly_ sound. "But we never seem to be as strongly shaken by it - physically or otherwise - as people who've lived here for decades. I suppose we'll find out. It'll ring again when she's announced."

"And she wasn't born in Mechanicsburg," finished Klaus.

"Exactly." Barry paused. "I have _no_ idea how to warn her about it."

Klaus considered that. "I really have no idea either."

"I suppose it'll fit in somehow with the giant biting clank face and the chapel full of skulls." Sometimes Barry seriously wondered why they had tourists at all. Then he remembered that first, he and Bill were heroes, and second, the Heterodynes were not uniquely morbid, just unusually spectacular about it. "But it doesn't really feel to me much like anybody outside the bloodline describes it."

"And you don't know whether Agatha will feel what you feel or what the rest of us feel. At least the giant biting clank face is easier to describe." He shook his head. "One advantage of enrolling Agatha in the school is that she won't grow up thinking that sort of thing is normal." He was smiling slightly, probably remembering surreal conversations with Bill and Barry at a time when they were new to living outside Mechanicsburg.

"No, she'll have an entirely new set of strange things to classify as normal," said Barry. More wholesome, though. "I do think it'll be good for her. She'll have more of a chance to make friends, for one thing." In her admittedly limited visits so far, Barry was pretty sure she was already making friends with nearly the entire student body.

So it was a bit of a surprise when they arrived at the school to find Agatha fuming at a table by herself, scowling and swinging her feet angrily. There were several groups of other students in the room, mostly huddled over books, but their attention all seemed to be somewhat furtively on Agatha. Von Pinn greeted them and then looked at Agatha, whose feet stilled very briefly before she gave the leg of her chair a defiant kick.

Barry raised his eyebrows. "What happened here?" he asked, before thinking that possibly he should have let Klaus ask that, since it _was_ his school. Oh well.

"I am not sure," said Von Pinn. "I arrived to find most of my students backing away from Miss Agatha. It doesn't seem as if she actually did anything to them, and they haven't been able to explain what she said to frighten them either. Apparently that they'd be sorry, but it's hardly unusual for them to say such things to each other."

"I take it she didn't explain it any more clearly?" Barry asked, and Von Pinn shook her head. Agatha's temper was fierce enough that he had lain awake nights hoping it was all her own and not actually an adult Spark's - he suspected, now, that traveling largely in isolation had allowed his imagination to run away with him sometimes - but why would Agatha be terrorising the other students?

"I said I would _make them_ sorry," Agatha said distinctly, her small hands curling into fists on the table.

_Oh boy._ Barry walked over to the low table and crouched down to catch her eye. "For what?"

"For being _mean_ to my _friend_!" Agatha burst out. "They _ought_ to be sorry! You taught me better than that and I didn't even _know_ anybody and they're _older!_"

Barry paused, suddenly even less sure than before how to proceed. On the one hand, terrifying the other students was not a good habit to get into; on the other, this actually sounded like a pretty good reason. He was - somewhat academically - aware that children could be as cruel to each other as adults could, but he wasn't really sure how good Agatha's evaluations would be at this point. "I could do with a little more information," he said. "What did they do, and what did you do?"

"I told you, I said I'd make them sorry." Agatha's eyes flashed. "You should make _them_ tell. They tried to tell me it was how things were supposed to go!"

Barry eyed her for a moment. That was a suspiciously familiar justification. "How things were supposed to go. Anybody else want to explain, then?" he said, consciously trying to keep his voice mild.

Gil, who had been doing a pretty good job of fading into the background, stepped forward when none of the other students seemed inclined to. "Um. They stole my book." He looked embarrassed, either at having the other students dislike him or at not being able to defend himself. "I usually just do something else 'til they get bored and put it down somewhere, but Agatha got mad." He grinned, briefly, at the memory, eyes bright with admiration. "It's not her fault, she was trying to help."

Barry glanced around the room. Only a few students met his eyes; some looked defiant, while others went red in the face. "My mother spent a lot of time teaching Bill and me that it was wrong to take other people's things just because they weren't your own people and you _could_," he said, conversationally, and ostensibly to Gil. "I'm glad to hear Agatha's got the idea already."

Von Pinn walked over and put a hand on Agatha's shoulder. "In future you should tell me and _I_ will see to frightening those who deserve it." Klaus, perhaps not wanting to show interest in Gil or perhaps feeling the students had now been sufficiently terrorised for the day, kept quiet.

"Thank you, Madame Von Pinn," Agatha said politely, although she cast Gil an uncertain glance as if to suggest that if this worked, it shouldn't still be happening.

"You can also try asking for it back, and losing your temper only if they refuse," Barry began, then glanced at Von Pinn. "Not that I mean to suggest undermining your teacher's authority, of course, but still, you might be surprised how often asking is effective if you do it right." Agatha looked interested. With a faint sense of triumph, he noted that she wasn't the only one.

The ensuing discussion was actually rather refreshing, even if Barry was a little rusty on having that sort of argument. The students were spirited in question and debate, once they warmed up to it, and to Barry's secret glee, Klaus eventually joined in too. (He said something about acknowledging the elephant in the room. Barry reminded himself that really _was_ conspicuous in most rooms. Castle Heterodyne was unusual in many ways, among which decorating with various sizes of preserved mammoth was really one of the least.)

"I think that went well," he said to Klaus, after Von Pinn had at last tactfully suggested that the children had other lessons to consider, as well as meals. It was pretty much the politest way he'd ever been ejected from area or conversation.

"They are here to learn political theory," Klaus said, sounding amused.

Barry grinned at him. "And now you have proof it's taking."

* * *

"Hsst. Gil." It wasn't normally easy to have a private conversation in the school, but the construction of the new teaching lab and the expanded sleeping quarters was loud enough that Agatha's whisper was nearly lost even as she plopped down next to him, looking very serious for a four-year-old. "Wanna visit Castle Heterodyne?"

Gil looked down at her, wide eyed. "Really? I've never even been on the ground."

Agatha squirmed slightly. "Uncle Barry says I have to go there and get bit."

That sounded alarming. Why would Barry Heterodyne want something to bite her? "By what?"

She folded up, wrapping her arms around her knees. "The Castle. It needs blood to make sure I'm really a Heterodyne."

"Oh." Gil put an arm around her shoulders. "That sounds scary."

Agatha leaned into him. "He says he was too young to remember when it bit him," she said a bit grumpily, "which isn't very helpful. But it does it to all the babies and doesn't maim them permanently."

"That's... good? I'm glad Castle Wulfenbach doesn't bite people. I'll stay with you while it does it if I'm allowed."

"Thanks. I asked if I could bring a friend. He said yes but he looked kind of funny." She was quiet for a moment, curled very small against his side. "Gil, I think my family might be really weird."

"Your father and uncle are heroes, though," said Gil. "I don't think heroes can be weird."

"Yeah, but before that they built a talking castle that bites people. Uncle Barry says a lot of their history isn't very good."

Gil settled back to think about this for a moment. "I guess at least you know some of your family are good? No one knows anything about mine, so they could all be really bad." Although they probably hadn't built biting Castles. Gil doubted more than one family would think of that.

"I know _you're_ good," Agatha said firmly. "...Maybe a little too nice sometimes." This last part was mumbled, and possibly in reference to his alarm at the suggestion of booby-trapping his notebooks so people wouldn't steal them (at least not more than once). "But... not anything at all?"

Gil shook his head and looked at his knees. "Don't tell the others," he said, not bothering to ask her to promise or even wait for her to agree. By now he trusted her to keep his secrets. "But I don't really remember things too well. Before, um, half of a year ago?" He wasn't really sure exactly when his memories cut off, and there was a time before that where he had misty shreds of them, of someone he sometimes thought was the Baron looking after him. But surely he didn't take care of the orphans he found personally. "Before then I don't remember much at all."

"Ohh." Agatha wormed an arm around his waist. "That's... weird. That's older than I still am." That _was_ a weird thought. "So... everything you remember is the school?"

Gil nodded. "I've been learning fast to catch up."

"You're really smart."

Gil smiled, he _was_ proud of how well he was doing at keeping up. Even if the entire point was for no one to appreciate his efforts. "Thanks."

"It's getting harder to remember... stuff before Uncle Barry," Agatha said, as if chewing over a problem, "but it doesn't sound like the same phenomenon at all." Sometimes you could _really_ tell Agatha had learned to talk from a full-blown Spark. "Maybe you got really sick?"

"Maybe? I don't remember feeling sick." But then he didn't remember much at all. "Are there diseases that cause that kind of memory loss?"

"Bad fevers maybe...?" Agatha sounded doubtful. "Or Lethean brain worms? I wasn't really s'posed to listen when people asked Uncle Barry medical questions, I think. He gave me loud things to play with sometimes."

"I hope it's not brain worms, those sound really bad."

"I don't really think you have brain worms. They'd have come out your nose by now."

Gil clapped a hand over his nose automatically before lowering it with a sheepish smile. "Erk," he said and then laughed.

She grinned up at him for a second. "So I think you're okay." She leaned forward and picked up an adjustable wrench, fiddling with it for a minute, then said, "What about your name?"

"I don't know. Do you think it's a real one?" asked Gil.

"Oh. You think the Baron might have made it up?"

"I don't know," Gil repeated. "I guess I thought if he knew enough to know my name he would have told me?"

Agatha frowned. "Um. Would he... know you don't know?"

Gil turned it over. "I guess I didn't tell him I didn't." Somehow he'd just assumed the Baron would know. He seemed like he'd know everything. "Do you think I should ask him?"

"Probably? Then if he knows anything at all he can tell you. ...I think he's nice. Uncle Barry likes him. I think he's coming to Castle Heterodyne with us."

"I'll... think about it," said Gil.

He thought about it a lot, over the next few days. It wasn't that he thought Agatha was wrong about the Baron being nice, exactly. It was just, he decided, that the Baron was really intimidating, which was maybe something Agatha just didn't notice. And of course the Baron liked _her_. She was his best friend's daughter, or niece, depending on which one you meant.

And he wasn't sure he'd like what he found out.

But he wanted to _know_.

When he asked Madame Von Pinn about going to Castle Heterodyne, she said she would have to ask the Baron, and Gil took a deep breath and made himself say, before he could stop and think about it again, "May I do it?"

She looked at him in surprise and said, "Yes, you may."

He was expecting to have to wait, but she took him to the Baron's study only a few minutes later and rapped on the open door. "I know you're there," the Baron began, looking up from his desk, and then stopped, his eyes resting on Gil. "...You, I didn't expect. I beg your pardon."

Gil wasn't sure what to think about that. "It's... okay?" he ventured in confusion, then felt silly because it wasn't as if there had actually been any reason for an apology and he felt like he'd said the wrong line or something. Baron Wulfenbach's mouth flexed in the beginning of a smile, but there wasn't any amusement in his eyes, and Gil couldn't decide if he was being laughed at or reassured or what.

"Do you want me to stay?" asked Madame Von Pinn.

She was talking to Gil, not the Baron, and they both waited for an answer. Gil swallowed and said, "No, thank you," and she returned to the school, leaving him facing Baron Wulfenbach across a study that seemed enormous and a desk that seemed bigger still, which made no physical sense. Gil blinked hard and told himself not to be nervous. It didn't help. He reminded himself that the earliest memories he'd been able to scrape up (at least, he thought they were earliest) seemed to have Baron Wulfenbach in them, and he _hadn't_ been afraid of him then. He'd been afraid but the Baron had made him feel better. He thought. He just wished he had any idea what had been going on at the time. There was an awful lot of detail missing, like fuzzy bits of dream.

"Come and sit down," said Baron Wulfenbach. He came out from behind his desk and took one of the two chairs in front of it. Gil swallowed and started walking; the study wasn't really _that_ big, and clambering up into the other big leather chair was easier than navigating the girders. And squishier. The Baron leaned forward, arms folded loosely on his knees. "What did you want to talk about?" He sounded... friendly. Almost. Not easy, like with Barry Heterodyne, but like he was trying to be.

Gil took a deep breath. The first question really shouldn't be scary, especially since if the answer was yes he'd be travelling with the Baron anyway. "Agatha asked if I wanted to come with her to Castle Heterodyne when it bites her. Um, when it confirms she's really a Heterodyne. Her uncle said she could invite somebody. May I please?"

The Baron sat back, hands curling suddenly around the ends of his chair's armrests. "I should probably have been expecting that one," he murmured. "Did she explain to you that Castle Heterodyne is intelligent and very dangerous?"

"She said it was going to bite her," Gil repeated. Did that count? "I've heard some stories. But it's hers and Barry Heterodyne's, isn't it? I wouldn't think they'd let it hurt people."

"I don't think so either," the Baron said. "I will give my permission. But I want to make sure you know to be careful."

Gil nodded earnestly. "I'm always careful."

The Baron rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Regardless of whether it's at something you're supposed to be doing."

Gil froze, not sure how to answer that.

After a moment, the Baron eyed him and smiled just a little. "Never mind. You're not in trouble for anything. Was that all?"

Gil breathed again and, one more time, rushed the words out to keep them from getting tangled up in worry and hesitation. "No, Herr Baron, I had another question." He had to stop and swallow, then, but the Baron waited and looked like he was paying attention, still smiling a little bit. "Please. Herr Baron. Do you know anything about my family?" The Baron's smile went away entirely, and Gil's stomach lurched and twisted, but he added desperately, "I don't remember very much. Agatha said maybe you didn't know that and hadn't thought to tell me. I just wondered if... if you had any more information. Sir."

"Gil..." The Baron leaned forward again, and Gil swallowed, feeling a little ill and shaky at the serious look on his face. The Baron set a large, heavy hand on Gil's shoulder, very gently, and closed his eyes for a few seconds as he slowly inhaled. Then he opened them again, looking even more serious, and said quietly, "I'm sorry, Gil. There's nothing more I can tell you."

The fear went away, and Gil suddenly felt tired all over instead. And maybe like crying, but he was old enough he shouldn't be doing that so much anyway. And it wasn't as if the Baron had said anything on purpose to hurt. So it was silly. But his eyes still felt hot. "Thank you, Herr Baron," he said dully. "That was everything." He slid out of the chair, out from under the hand on his shoulder, and felt light and chilly when it was gone. The Baron's hand settled on his own knee. Gil bowed a little bit and it curled into a fist.

"You're very welcome. I'm sorry I couldn't be more help."

Gil swallowed and thought he should probably say something else, but he couldn't think of what and there was the kind of lump in his throat that didn't move when he tried to swallow it, so he just went back to the school. By the time he got back to Agatha, he could talk enough to say he was coming with her, and when she hugged him and Sleipnir looked jealous he could smile.


	6. In Which Agatha is Bitten

Barry still had some misgivings about taking Agatha to meet the Castle properly, but there wasn't much to be done about it. He pushed the feeling aside to grin at the outflier pilot, who by this point was probably starting to feel like he'd been assigned to Heterodyne-ferrying duty, as they docked. He clanked his way through Castle Wulfenbach, which was beginning to look much more densely constructed. The guards let him into the completed section, where he found Klaus's door open and his friend himself scowling at paperwork. Barry cleared his throat. "Not that there's any particular rush," he said lightly, "but I think I do have an appointment."

Klaus put the paperwork aside, looking somewhat relieved at the excuse. "We wouldn't want Castle Heterodyne to get impatient," he said.

"It has been _giggling_ at me," Barry said. "And I've barely been inside. It also thinks I should give you an oubliette as a housewarming present, by the way."

"On an airship?" said Klaus.

"Well, a bottomless pit would be superfluous."

"This is true. If your house wants to give me presents I'd rather have a spare torchman," said Klaus. He stood up and walked over to the door. "Time to get going?"

"Yes. Ah -" They'd both been busy. Barry wasn't sure exactly what the school procedure would have been. "Agatha asked me if she could bring a friend. Have you had a permission request or anything?"

"Yes." Klaus looked worried, but resigned. "From Gil. I told him he could come."

"I thought she'd ask him. I already told it not to tell him, well..." Barry trailed off. "I don't think I can talk it into holding off on the Doom Bell, though."

"I'll give orders to get out of range before we leave," said Klaus. "There should be time."

"I would think so." Gil, of course, would still be with them. Well, all the children in Mechanicsburg coped, and the Castle probably wouldn't let him get seriously hurt even if he somehow fell off anything. "Let's go, then." He went over to rap at the school's entrance.

Von Pinn opened it so quickly Barry wondered if she'd been waiting just inside. "Herr Baron. Master Heterodyne. The children are-" She effortlessly reached down and blocked Agatha's attempt to dash past her. "Ready."

Barry's mouth twitched, and he held out a hand. Von Pinn allowed Agatha to walk past a bit more sedately to hug him. "So I see." He nodded to Gil. "Good to see you again, too."

Gil smiled up at him. "Thank you."

"We don't take a lot of visitors to Castle Heterodyne," Barry said seriously. "You'll, ah, probably see why. But you're Agatha's friend and I've told it to protect you like you were part of the family." He glanced at Klaus. "I grew up there. It may be more helpful to you if Klaus tries to give you an idea what to expect."

"I expect Agatha's told you the Castle is alive," said Klaus. "Within itself it can do almost anything, but it won't actually do most of what it will threaten you with. It has a nasty sense of humour, but it does obey Barry." He hesitated and then put a hand on Gil's shoulder. "I wouldn't take any of my students there if I believed they would come to harm. Just be careful, it contains a lot of things that shouldn't be meddled with even when it's not trying to hurt you with them. And, after Agatha is accepted, it will ring the Doom Bell. It brings up bad memories for anyone who hears it, but it will be over quite soon. And it's best to get used to such things, everyone in Mechanicsburg does."

Gil looked up at him wide eyed and nodded solemnly. "I'll be careful," he said. He glanced at Agatha to see if she was listening as well.

Agatha was looking up thoughtfully at the Baron, then regarded Barry with one of those expressions that made him wonder if she was _supposed_ to be quite like that when she wasn't even five yet. "Will it listen to me too?" She considered for a moment. "After it bites me?"

Barry reflected that Gil must have received an interesting idea of the Castle already. "Sometimes," he said. "After you grow up, it will listen to you more than me."

"Do you want it to listen to you?" asked Gil. He thought about that for a moment. "It would definitely be better than it _not_ listening to you, but..."

"If I have to tell it not to hurt my friends," Agatha said, "it had _better_."

Barry found himself suddenly much less worried. "One of our ancestors modelled it on his own personality," he began.

Agatha gave him a skeptical look. "He bit people?"

"I doubt it," said Klaus. "Although there are rumours of a Heterodyne Vampire."

"Oh, we won't run into him," Barry said, all apparent innocence. "I wasn't planning to go to the crypt."

Gil gave Agatha a rather wide eyed look, not quite sure whether to believe what the adults were saying.

"Come on," said Klaus. "If we don't get going the Castle will be sending torchmen up to fetch us."

"It could get a little impatient," Barry conceded, and they set off. He resisted picking Agatha up for now - it was, after all, demonstrable that she wasn't going to vanish if they got too far out of contact, and it was a short walk.

She was giving him a skeptical look _every time_ he glanced down at her. As they reached the outflier and he took his seat, she rested her clasped hands on his knee. "Uncle Barry," she said, with a severity she _had_ to be imitating from Von Pinn, "is there a real vampire? I thought they were strictly folkloric."

Barry shot Klaus a look, mostly to give himself time to control the urge to laugh at her tone. "People do a lot of strange things," he said, when he could trust himself to speak, "to themselves and each other. There _was_ a Heterodyne whose revival went wrong and he got a taste for blood, but he's all the way dead by now." His son was a bit more complicated, but he wasn't going to get into that. He lifted Agatha into her own seat, instead.

Gil, from his place next to Agatha, leant over and whispered, "You might have been right about your family."

Barry regarded Gil with some amusement. "What _did_ she say?"

Gil looked faintly embarrassed, but Agatha said plainly, "I said they sound weird," sitting back to watch the pilot.

Barry shrugged. "Really can't argue with that."

Castle Heterodyne made a minor show to welcome them, of course, flinging the doors open with a boom. (Closing doors with a boom was one thing. Opening them that way was just showing off. Barry considered annoying it by suggesting it needed its hinge coordination recalibrated, but decided this was not the time to be unnecessarily antagonistic.) Agatha clung firmly to his hand and Gil's, although Barry wasn't quite sure whether the latter was for her own comfort or a protective impulse. "Hello, Castle," she piped up.

"Greetings, Lady Heterodyne, if my lady you be," the Castle boomed. "I have prepared a way to the chapel."

Agatha blinked and looked up at Barry. "Wasn't there one before?" she asked.

"It may mean it decorated," Barry murmured. And wasn't that a worrying thought. "But it does rearrange the floor plan sometimes. Hello to you too," he added blandly, in the direction of the doorway ahead of them.

It _had_ decorated. Rather more tastefully than he was expecting, with looping curlicues and trilobites and only the occasional grinning skull. It had also made sure it was _obvious_ that the elegant walkway over the courtyard was by no imaginable measure structurally sound. Agatha's hand slithered out of his, and he looked over to find her and Gil crouched down to peer underneath the edge.

Barry cleared his throat. Agatha ran back over hastily and joined him to cross the bridge. The stones held, under all four of them. A winding stair, with - voices ahead? That didn't sound like the Castle's voice...

Barry stopped and rubbed his eyes as the chapel door came into view.

There was a _Muse_ sitting outside it. Ragged hair, her gown now only a few rags, but the intricate sleek structure, the fleur-de-lis markings, were impossible to mistake. Chains had been welded to her ankles and wrists, but were broken off short now. The great wings, most of their fabric feathers gone, arched with an odd air of irritation. Well, maybe not that odd, all things considered. "..._Otilia_?"

"No," said the Muse, with some annoyance. "_I_ am Castle Heterodyne."

"Part of Castle Heterodyne," corrected the Castle, its voice coming from inside the chapel.

Barry looked at Klaus, then down at the children. "This is evidently going to be more complex than I was expecting." Why was a Muse claiming to be Castle Heterodyne? Although, if he could listen past the voice, he supposed the tone was very Castle-like. "Castle," he said, "please, explain." A very brief pause, then to the Muse, "You start."

The Muse stood up. "Lucrezia. She has a laboratory beneath me, where I could not find it, and she downloaded a copy of my personality there, transferring me into this body. The Muse she transferred elsewhere."

Barry exhaled slowly between his teeth. Mind transfers, again. Not a good sign. "Where did she put the-" A possible answer occurred to him. Harmonised with the facts, like a struck chord. Lucrezia's creation. Lucrezia's creation who loathed her and didn't say why, who lost her mind when she couldn't protect her charge. "Von Pinn?"

"Yes." The Muse looked at him, wings flaring behind it. "You must return her to this body."

"She didn't come with us," said Barry. "I'll talk to her when we get back to Castle Wulfenbach."

"Talking won't help. You need to bring her here."

Barry paused. "Excuse me?"

"If she could have told you she would have done so," interrupted the voice from the chapel.

"...Lucrezia would have built compulsions into the new body. Of course." Barry rubbed a hand over his face. The idea of yanking somebody's mind into a different body based on the Castle's word alone worried him, but the whole thing rang of truth. The Muse - or the Muse body - was there. It was bizarrely easy to imagine Von Pinn as the Muse of Protection. And it was uncomfortably possible that she was rendered not only incapable of saying what had happened, but incapable of agreeing to the reversal. He _hoped_ not. "You know where the lab is _now_, I assume. I'll need to see her equipment. The only mind-transfer devices I'm familiar with are strictly biological."

"There is a secret passage behind her -" the Muse began, only for the chapel to interrupt it.

"There isn't. I know all the passages inside my walls."

The Muse's wings flared. "I _walked up it_." It glared at the chapel and turned to Barry. "Please reunite me with this Castle, I clearly have the better part of our intellect."

_Don't laugh at the Castle,_ Barry instructed himself. He cleared his throat. "Well, I'll certainly have to do something. No matter how intricate Van Rijn's work is, I can't imagine there's room for two of you in there."

"I suppose I survived it once," grumbled the Castle from the chapel.

"You'll be fine," Barry told it, then glanced back at the Muse. "I don't know if it's explained about the earlier reintegration problems."

"Somewhat," said the Muse.

The Castle sighed. "I don't actually wish to lose the memories of that part of myself."

"It might be easier this time," Barry offered. "Two of you instead of a dozen, and both relatively calm. However-" He looked down at Agatha and discovered she was trying to peer between the chapel doors. "Perhaps we can get the recognition taken care of first."

"That might be best," agreed the Muse. It stepped aside and bowed, just as the chapel doors swung inwards.

Agatha stumbled a little, and Barry rested a hand on her shoulder and tried not to sigh at all the skulls. "Welcome to the family chapel of the Heterodynes," he said, a little resignedly. "Agatha, ah... watch your step." He really wanted to step _between_ the skulls himself - even if they'd been trying to steal his house, walking on what was left of them was uncomfortable.

The face folded up from the floor, focussing on Agatha. Gil stepped closer to her, grabbing her hand, and for a moment seemed to get its attention. "There's no need to protect her from me, so long as she is who she claims, little one. And if she is not there will be no point in trying." It returned its gaze to Agatha. "I congratulate you on having gained loyalty so young. He may be a fine consort one day."

"A what?" Agatha asked, sounding startled.

Barry wasn't sure whether to be exasperated at the Castle for bringing it up at all or relieved because this was, actually, its version of nice. Kind of. "The Castle thinks your father waited awfully late to get married," he said drily. "It's still not something you need to worry about any time soon."

"Okay." Agatha glanced up at Barry, looking a little worried; she squeezed Gil's hand, then let it go and walked forward, carefully picking her way among the skulls. "Uncle Barry says you're gonna bite me."

"Indeed I am," said the Castle. "But you are young and I will be, heh, gentle."

"You had better," Barry said under his breath, as he started to follow her. The Castle would hear him. It probably wouldn't _care_, but it would hear him.

Agatha looked back up at him, nose wrinkling, and for a second he thought _she'd_ overheard, but that wasn't likely over the clattering of the disturbed skulls. "It sounds like one of the older kids when they're about to do something they only think is funny."

Barry shrugged a bit helplessly. "It does that a lot. But I was less than a day old and it didn't do much damage."

Agatha grimaced. She reached the face and stuck her arm between the giant teeth, as far as it would go. Barry felt her other hand tighten on his fingers, and he squeezed back as much as he dared.

Then she yelped, yanked her hand back, and promptly stuck it in her own mouth. Barry crouched down to tug at her arm. "Let me see." The hand he tugged free of her mouth was a little slimy by then, of course, but the cut to the web of the thumb was barely a scratch. "Ah, that's not so bad." He glanced up at the face. "You _did_ get enough blood, didn't you?"

"Enough, yes. She is indeed your brother's child, and our Heterodyne." The Castle didn't bother to sound _too_ dramatic on an announcement of something they'd all known anyway.

"There we go, then." Barry hesitated. "And thank you for taking it easy on her." He raked a hand back through his hair and regarded the Muse. "I can go ahead and hook you two together fairly quickly, I think, either before or after we announce Agatha. After that-" He turned to Klaus. "I'm not sure we'd be able to get Von Pinn to come here if we left Agatha on Castle Wulfenbach." Or Gil, for that matter, but he was trying to be circumspect.

"Is there such a thing as a safe place to leave them inside the Castle?" Klaus asked. "I'd rather keep them close."

"Gradok Heterodyne's childhood laboratory was mostly used as a storeroom once he grew out of it," the Castle suggested. "It still contains a lot of his earlier inventions, and some tools, but nothing instantly deadly. Some of the tools are sharp, but I can take them away if they're being used that badly." Its tone suggested it didn't think much of any Heterodyne, however young, who would use basic equipment badly enough to seriously injure themselves. But that was all right, Agatha and Gil were both demonstrably capable of safely handling sharp objects. More so than some adult Sparks, really. Watching some people try to hold a scalpel was hair-raising.

"The 'Good' Heterodyne," said Klaus to Barry, dubiously.

"This would be from about a decade before the Cathedral," Barry told him. "It's probably fine. And... _almost_ age-appropriate, anyway. He broke through when he was ten."

"Your family break through young," Klaus remarked, with a glance at Agatha. Possibly he was thinking about having the chance to observe her breakthrough, or possibly he was imagining the chaos it was likely to cause for his school. "If it doesn't contain anything worse than tools, it's probably safer than leaving them anywhere they'd get bored and wander off. And I'd really prefer not to resort to the cages."

"Some of us do. This way-" Barry glanced down at the children, who looked like they weren't quite sure if the cages were a joke or not, and then glanced back up at Klaus and grinned as they set off. "It may be full of dragons. Gradok made Franz."

"I'm not sure if that's reassuring or not," said Klaus. "I like Franz, but he does consider people to be edible."

"True, but without much enthusiasm." Sometimes that was as good as it got. "I suppose that must have been a later development," Barry added reflectively. "According to the notebooks, he started out as a particularly dragony piggy bank."

"Really?" asked Gil. "How big is he now?"

"You're about the size of one of his fingers," Barry told him. "Gradok made him to guard _all_ his treasure, and get bigger as needed. Only, Gradok was still a kid at the time and had two older siblings, so he wasn't ever expecting to be the Heterodyne himself..." He tried not to sigh. Okay. Occasionally he _could_ sympathise with some of his ancestors. He could also remember learning Klaus had lost both his own brothers and finding it unimaginable.

"It must be very hard to steal from your family, if all your money is in a dragon," said Gil. "Do you have to take it out of him to pay for things?"

Barry shook off the melancholy moment. "We keep some out so we don't have to wake him up all the time. He sleeps a lot." His mouth quirked. "When Bill and I were really little, our father would occasionally rouse him when the town was under attack, and put us inside the vault."

Gil thought about that, brows drawing together solemnly. "Were you scared?"

"I... think I was too young to realize there was anything to be scared of. I don't remember it very well. Mostly an impression of being put inside, and Franz being grouchy because he was still half asleep." Bill and a blue lamp, and gold coins sliding around. Blinking in the daylight when their mother pulled them out. "Considering some of the things Father considered fun and educational, I guess those must have been some of the more worrying attacks."

Gil nodded, still frowning.

"What did he think was fun and educational?" Agatha asked. "Besides being inside a dragon?"

"Ah..." Barry rubbed his forehead, trying to think of examples that would get the idea across without the descriptions themselves being too awful. "He did have us watch some attacks on the town later. Vivisections." He shot Klaus a rueful look. "I understand he made Bill set the Wulfenbachs' great hall on fire once."

"I remember that," said Klaus. "In retrospect I think Bill only did it so he could aim at the parts that would be easiest to put out."

"He was afraid if Father took back the flamethrower, he'd aim at _people_," Barry agreed ruefully.

"But why would he want to do that?" Agatha asked, distressed.

Barry sighed and scooped her up to hug her. "He didn't tend to think about being nice to anybody who wasn't from Mechanicsburg. Mother spent a lot of time explaining why we should."

The Castle made a disapproving grinding sound. Klaus gave the nearest wall a wry look. "The Castle still doesn't agree, but fortunately it can't leave Mechanicsburg," he said. "And it makes an exception for friends of Heterodynes, even while grumbling about friends not being worth bothering with," he added to Gil, who glanced at Agatha and looked reassured.

Barry's mouth quirked. "Good summary." Agatha squirmed, so he let her down, whereupon she promptly and firmly latched onto Gil's hand again. "And - here we are." Gradok's laboratory had a long, slender dragon sculpted around the door, regarding the doorknob with evident suspicion. Barry turned it anyway, revealing a room with low workbenches, stepstools, a conglomeration of boxes toward the back, and unboxed clanks and tools laid out in what had probably been neat rows before the damage and repair of the Castle. The sun coming through the window highlighted a hazy layer of dust, but that was the only sign of neglect.

Klaus walked in and gave the clanks out on the benches a swift glance before nodding. "This looks safe enough," he said, then paused to open up a dragon's claws. "Fascinating. Very elegant for a Spark just past breakthrough, especially one so young."

Agatha moved in as well, looking around in evident delight and towing Gil with her - not that he needed much towing.

"The 'good' designation aside," Barry said, picking up a small and equally dragony bellows, "Gradok was a _very_ impressive Spark. Attentive to detail." He checked to make sure it was _only_ a bellows rather than producing its own fire, then used it to puff clean a section of workbench. "I'm not sure what he'd have done, if he hadn't spent most of his life trying to figure out what happened to his sister."

The look Klaus gave him at that was sympathetic but he didn't say anything, just turned to the children. "Will you two be all right here while we sort the Castle out? There will be a moment when it shuts down briefly, so if the lights go out it's nothing to worry about."

"I think we'll be fine," Agatha said. By this point she had climbed up onto a short stack of boxes to peer into a higher one and was almost at eye level with Barry, thoroughly smudged with dust already and starry-eyed when she turned to face them. "This place looks like fun."

Gil nodded enthusiastically, already pulling a stool over to climb up and peer into a box of his own.

"Okay, good." This should definitely keep them busy. Barry paused on his way out. "Tell the Castle if you get hungry and it can pass a message to the cooks." He wasn't sure Agatha was listening, but Gil looked up and nodded. Barry could hear them start to chatter as the door closed, and he looked up to nod at the towering Muse. "All right," he said, "library."


	7. In Which Things Get Dragony

However Lucrezia had managed it in the first place, connecting a Muse to Castle Heterodyne proved predictably fiddly. Just as predictably, it was one of the more fascinating technical experiences of Klaus's life. Beetle's rhapsodies about the Muses were entirely justified, even if this particular clank was at present occupied by the wrong mind.

Once that was settled, they headed back to Castle Wulfenbach, where Von Pinn greeted them with urgent alarm. "Herr Baron. Master Barry. _Where are Master Gil and Miss Agatha?_"

"They're still in Castle Heterodyne," Barry said. "They're fine. But it turns out we need you to come with us."

"You left children alone with Castle Heterodyne?" she demanded. "Take me to them right now."

Well, Klaus thought, that solved getting her to come with them. Whether they could convince her to come to Lucrezia's lab instead of running off to find her charges he had no idea.

The ride back down to Mechanicsburg passed in uncomfortable silence, and she was hard enough to keep up with once they landed that they were inside Castle Heterodyne before there was really another opportunity for conversation. "Where did you leave them?"

"Gradok's lab," Barry said, laying a hand on her arm. "Madame Von Pinn, I mean it, they're fine." Then, apparently deciding on the direct approach, "But we found a copy of Castle Heterodyne occupying Otilia's body. It claims you're the one who belongs there."

She stiffened under his hand, trembling violently, and finally said in a choked voice, "The Castle...always..." She hissed. "I am...I can...I will go with you."

"Thank you. We just need to, ah, collect your body and head down to Lucrezia's lab." He glanced up and addressed the Castle. "Which you can locate now, right?"

"There is a secret passage leading down from her bedroom. I still can't feel it, but I now remember where it is. As you go down it, please see if my mechanisms near it have been blocked," said the Castle.

The Muse was shut down and empty when they reached the library, an oddly unsettling sight. Barry disconnected it, and Klaus carefully folded the great tattered wings and picked it up. Even at his height, it made an awkward burden, but was easy enough to carry. Less fragile than the tales of the Muses' destruction suggested - the interior workings were a marvel of delicacy, but if you didn't open it up and start taking things apart, you weren't going to damage them _that_ easily.

Lucrezia's bedroom still felt like her, which also remained vaguely unsettling, as if she might pop out from behind a mirror at any moment. Klaus was distracted enough by that fancy that Barry opening the secret passage made him start, despite being at the Castle's explicit direction.

"And you can't feel this at all?" Barry was saying, stepping in and out of the passageway and inspecting the entrance.

"Ah, no," said the Castle, sounding rather unnerved. "It's as if you keep disappearing."

Klaus walked over and peered past Barry into the passage, not at all sure what he was looking for.

"I suppose your awareness has to have boundaries somewhere," Barry muttered, "but this is bizarre. What in the world would..." He trailed off, into classic Heterodyne humming with a distinctly baffled air. "...Correspond to a local anaesthetic?"

Klaus frowned, as an edge to the humming caught at his mind. Every so often Barry would hit a particular note and there would be an echo, a soft burring noise. "Do you hear that?' he whispered, twisting his head back and forth as he tried to work out where the echo was coming from.

Barry paused, then resumed humming more systematically. The echo caught again and held, and then Barry picked a wrench off his belt and jammed it into the wall.

"Ah," said the Castle. "Ow. Pins and needles. But I can see you, now. The passage fades out again about ten feet in."

"There must be a lot of them, then," Barry said, frowning down toward where the passage spiraled out of sight. "Thanks, Klaus." He started humming again as he advanced down the steps.

"We should try to get hold of an intact one," Klaus said.

"Would that really be necessary?" asked the Castle.

"Useful," Barry admitted. "We could figure out how they work. I should have dug that one out, I was just... annoyed."

"Family feeling?" said Klaus.

Barry eyed him a bit balefully. "...Maybe."

Klaus managed not to laugh.

Barry dutifully extracted the next device from its camouflaged niche and took it apart in a less irreversible manner until it stopped working. Then he poked around the niche until there was a snapping noise and a blue spark and drew back. "How's that? If they were all on the same circuit, they should be off now."

"That's much better," said the Castle. "I can see the laboratory too, now, but...hmmm. I still can't see the end of this passageway, it just keeps going down further than I've ever been able to see."

"Something else we'll have to check later," said Klaus. He wondered how, exactly, Lucrezia had dug a tunnel. Either she'd had help or she'd built a tunneling device without any of them knowing.

"Worrying," Barry said. "But yes, we'll investigate later." He steered the unresisting Von Pinn onward, down the spiral - Klaus glanced back and noticed that the stairs had a pre-gloating checklist on them - and into a surprisingly cosy laboratory that bore the signs of unplanned departure but (thankfully) not of beasties, prisoners, or dark gods. Unless you counted the skulls in the autoclave, which had long since lost its seal and leaked. Several items had fallen over; Lucrezia evidently hadn't secured her secret laboratory in preparation for the destruction of the Castle. There was a tea cart, complete with the residues of very stale tea.

Barry, of course, seated Von Pinn carefully in the armchair and headed straight for the notebooks, while Klaus set down the Muse and went to inspect the equipment directly. They'd have to rebuild a lot of melted circuitry - probably backwards - but the basics seemed to be in reasonably good shape.

"How long is it going to take before we can do this, do you think?" Klaus asked. There was a limit to how long they could leave the children in even the most fascinating laboratory, and probably a limit to how long the Castle would wait for them to present Agatha.

Barry brought the notes over to compare them to the equipment. "Less than an hour, I think, and that's with a few minor revisions to reduce the risk of overload. All the groundwork's laid already."

"Why a Muse?" Klaus wondered aloud, as he read the notes over Barry's shoulder, and then answered his own question. "Clank lifeform. The Muses and the Castle must be the only known examples, I suppose getting access to both was too much to resist."

"Not a lot of Sparks who get hold of a Muse do resist," Barry said wryly. "Although most of them don't go swapping minds around. Muse to an organic brain, Castle to Muse... of course, the Castle was based on a human mind originally..."

"It never talks about itself that way," Klaus said. "As a human, I mean. But neither do the Jägers."

"Evidently, becoming a building changes you," Barry said flippantly, and then he laid the book down and his face drained to a ghastly ashen grey.

Klaus grabbed his arm. "Barry? Are you okay?"

Von Pinn surprised him by walking over to take Barry's other arm. "Come and sit down," she suggested.

"I'm-" Barry blinked, looking slightly less ill and more confused at Von Pinn's arrival, then took a deep breath. "Not... actually going to faint," he finished, in a rather wan effort at humour. He did let them sit him down, though. "Lucrezia was too... purposeful to be shunting minds around just for fun," he said. "We know she meant to copy herself into Agatha. I don't know if she thought she could _empty_ the Castle's mind into Otilia, or what... but Bill and I found her in a fortress she'd built out in orbit." He swallowed. "I only just thought of it. I suppose anyone else would have thought it was _odd_ for so many things to move on their own."

"You think there's a fortress in orbit that contains a copy of her mind," said Klaus, feeling rather grey himself at the thought.

"Hmph," said the Castle. "My mind is _far_ too vast to be emptied out so easily."

"Yes," Barry said. "Ah, we did a lot of damage. Hers is _probably_ in worse shape than this Castle was when we got here. At least it shouldn't be able to start dropping rocks again independently... I think. We should probably check on that."

"On the one hand that's good to know. On the other the Castle was _insane_ when we got here, and Lucrezia..." Klaus sighed. "As long as she can't do anything about it, I suppose." He tried not to think about the vast damaged mind hanging alone in space that had once, in some form, been the woman he loved.

Barry looked over at him, then surged back to his feet to begin work on the wiring. "I don't know what she can do," he said. "I... assume I only survived because I was with Bill most of the time and she still didn't have the heart to kill him on purpose."

She hadn't had the heart to kill him either, Klaus thought. Shipping him to Skifander had been unnecessary, but she had cared enough not to just kill him. Considering that she _had_ killed Bill though, even by accident, and after so much destruction, made what she'd done to him seem almost trivial. He turned back to the wiring. "We'll have to deal with her sooner or later," he said.

"Yes." Barry started heterodyning after that agreement, which Klaus took as a cue that he didn't want to talk, even though it wasn't always.

The atonal noise didn't always make concentration easier for people who _weren't_ Heterodynes - some found it downright irritating - but Klaus had worked with them enough that he associated it with focussed work and close companions. Perhaps because they were both ferociously trying _not_ to think of anything else, the work took nearer half an hour than a full one before the empty Muse was connected.

"Madame Von Pinn," Barry said quietly. "...Otilia. Ready when you are."

"I have been ready for a long time," said Von Pinn, which was probably not a comment on how long they'd taken. "Where do you need me?"

"On the slab, please. The restraints are purely in case of convulsions." Or possibly last-second activation of an implanted compulsion to resist. They weren't entirely sure they _could_ restrain Von Pinn, but Lucrezia appeared to have scavenged the shackles from old Heterodyne laboratory materials, so at least they were sturdy.

Von Pinn smiled faintly and allowed them to restrain her, and Barry threw the first switch. Electricity danced through the room, but that was expected. (Klaus could think of a few ways to cut down on it, but they'd been more concerned with speed than conserving power. Sometimes the trick was convincing Castle Heterodyne you only needed so much, especially since it seemed to be fond of the displaced Muse.) Lucrezia's admittedly elegant system of indicators informed them that neural translation and synchrony had been achieved, and they threw the remaining switches. The rock of the floor vibrated under them, briefly; Von Pinn went still and white, and Otilia's eyes opened.

"How are you feeling?" Klaus asked.

Otilia sat up and examined her hand, opening and closing it, then flexed her wings before looking down at herself. "Somewhat in need of a new dress," she said. "Thank you. It is a relief to be in a mechanical body again."

"I'll get somebody to work on the dress," Barry said. "And your feathers."

"There's some damage to the wing structure, too," she said. "It feels like just the struts, not the mechanisms."

"I know someone who can look you over, if you like," said Klaus, thinking that they were going to make Dr Beetle's entire life if they turned up with a Muse who needed even a little fixing. And he could probably be trusted not to do anything but fixing, especially with both of them waiting nearby. "After that do you want to remain in my employment? I take it you no longer need to take care of Agatha."

"I do," said Otilia. "That order did not come from Lucrezia alone."

Barry looked up from dismantling the transfer circuitry again, bemused. "Who else _could_ have given it?"

Otilia clasped her hands together, posture rigid. "My Master instructed me to protect the Heterodyne Girl. My Creator ordered me to keep her _safe_."

The Storm King and Van Rijn. It never seemed tactful or prudent to ask Castle Heterodyne or the Jägers too much about them. But Klaus throttled his thoughts back from historical fascination to that peculiar emphasis-

Barry beat him to it. "Safe," he said. "As in the opposite of dangerous, I'm guessing?"

"Yes." Otilia's wings shifted, Klaus got the impression if she was human she would have swallowed. "I thought I would have to kill her and guard her grave. But Agatha is a darling child, and certainly no threat to Europe."

"I'm glad you agree," Barry said, sounding... relatively composed considering Otilia's declaration. "But she's also," he pointed out, "not Euphrosynia. Did they both seriously say 'the Heterodyne Girl'?"

"Yes," said Otilia. "Unfortunately I cannot ignore orders because they were given by fools."

"Okay," said Barry. "That's... awkward, but at least you apparently have some room to interpret them. Although 'kill her and guard the grave' is clearly not a solution any of us want to see. If you don't see Agatha as a threat to Europe, that one shouldn't be an issue... right? So what _would_ satisfy the order?"

"My Creator's original intention was that I should guide her, teach her to be someone who would not plunge people into war to satisfy her own whims. In this case you've done much of my job for me already," she added, smiling at him slightly. "I will not harm a child, ever, you have my word on that. I would prefer to teach her, and to protect her, and to do the same for those others currently placed in my charge."

Barry smiled at that. "So, Klaus found pretty much the perfect role for you already after all?"

"Yes. I would like to continue in it."

"You're welcome to," said Klaus, unable to help grinning at the idea of a Muse _wanting_ to stay on as schoolteacher. Goodness knew what the nobility were going to think. "I know the children will be safe in your hands."

"Wonderful," said Barry. "Speaking of which - we should probably go get Agatha and Gil. Castle Heterodyne's been waiting long enough, and Castle Wulfenbach is certainly out of range of the bell."

* * *

The laboratory had _boxes full of dragons_. Barry Heterodyne's description of his childhood sounded weird and kind of disturbing, and Castle Heterodyne apparently didn't approve of caring about anyone outside your town, but... on the other hand, it had boxes of dragon clanks.

"Your house isn't quite what I was expecting," Gil said to Agatha, as he lifted out a segmented and rather snakelike dragon. This one didn't have any wings, so he set it aside gently and reached back in for another.

"Me neither." Agatha picked up a blue one and regarded it in surprise when it sloshed. "It can be mean, but it sounds like it's happy to see us."

Gil nodded. "I was expecting it to be evil, like things in stories that are really scary all the time. Mostly it seems like it bullies people, but...it's a lot like a _person_." He laid out five dragons with different wing types, including one of the tiny ones with insect wings, and set about comparing them.

"I think maybe it is? Uncle Barry said it was based on one of our ancestors..." She dug out a double handful of the tiny clanks, making Gil wince for the sake of the stiffly outstretched wings, then flopped down on her stomach on top of the worktable, with the swarm scattered in front of her. They didn't look damaged.

"I knew that," said Gil. And he _had_, it just hadn't quite sunk in that a building that bit people could also be something quite human. "I guess your ancestors sounded a bit like evil wizards in stories too. Sorry."

Agatha thought about that a moment, not really looking offended. "Uncle Barry _also_ says people used to call Sparks magic, and stuff. Maybe they were."

"Wizards and dragons and talking castles," said Gil. "And skulls," he added, remembering the chapel. "I feel like we should be rescuing a princess." Only given the make-up of their school Agatha was more likely to be rescuing Gil _from_ princesses. "This is more fun though," he added, very gently spreading a bat-like wing of worn canvas on ivory struts.

Agatha giggled. "It is." She thought for a minute. "I guess Uncle Barry and Baron Wulfenbach are kind of rescuing a Muse?"

"I hope she's happier being a proper Muse again," said Gil.

"Me too. It seems like it'd be uncomfortable having somebody put you in a different body." Agatha bit her lip. "I don't know why my mother would do that..."

Gil reached over to put an arm around her, the position slightly awkward with her lying on the table. It sort of looked like both sides of Agatha's family were strange in different ways. "I don't know."

Agatha sighed and leaned her head against his for a few seconds, then sniffed and sat up. "I'm gonna look at the tools and see if they're _all_ dragony."

Gil pulled back and nodded. "I was wondering if any of these could be scaled up. If I built a flying dragon I'd want to ride it. Maybe I'll ask your uncle later if Franz can fly."

"Ooh." Agatha perked up at that. "If you make a riding-dragon, can I come too? If Franz gives rides I'll bring you..."

"Of course," said Gil. "I probably can't actually do it, though. No one even knows if I'm likely to be a Spark."

"I guess," Agatha said, set back a bit by this. "But you're really smart and I bet we can come up with something!"

"Well, if it's both of us we can probably do something," said Gil, grinning at her. "If I'm not a Spark I could be your minion instead."

Agatha grinned back, but wrinkled her nose. "If we're waiting for me to break through it would take too long," she complained. "Baron Wulfenbach said ten was early. Hey, this is weird..." She clambered down to show him a particularly complicated little dragon. "This was in with the tools. Look at its feet!"

"Oh, wow." Unlike most dragons it had six feet, and each of them had four talons with bits sticking out, like on a key. "Do you think it opens doors?"

Agatha poked at them, intrigued. "Why would... ohh, I see." She jumped up and went to look at the unused lock on the laboratory door, then up at the ceiling. "Castle, couldn't Gradok have just asked you to open things? Did he take this other places?"

"His breakthrough caused nineteen explosions, after which he was placed in a cage until the worst of it passed," said the Castle. "A number of Heterodynes in that situation have invented lockpicks, but his solution was probably the most creative if not the most co-operative."

Agatha and Gil blinked at each other. Apparently Baron Wulfenbach hadn't been kidding about resorting to the cages. "What did he make that blew up?" Agatha asked after a moment.

"Wyverns," said the Castle. "His older brother adapted them for use on the battlefield as much larger versions, which only blew up as a last resort rather than accidentally."

"...Do we still have any?" Agatha asked, sounding interested.

"No," said the Castle. "Not the small ones, and I don't think your uncle wants you playing with the big ones."

"What did you mean about it not being cooperative?" asked Gil.

"It got him out of the cage," said the Castle. "But he had to chase it down afterwards."

"So if we woke it up again, it would probably fly away from us?" Gil could see why Agatha hadn't said "run". Its feet weren't really built for that.

"It might unlock any doors you asked it to first," said the Castle. "But probably, yes. I could power it up if you like, it could be entertaining."

"Ooh," Agatha began, then slumped down a little. "Um, but Uncle Barry would probably be really upset if we ran off to chase it. _And_ they're bringing Madame Von Pinn."

"Yeah, she'd probably be _really_ mad," said Gil.

Agatha brightened. "Could you keep it in here?"

"Yes," said the Castle sounding a bit indignant that she'd thought it couldn't. "But that's no fun for me or the dragon."

"Aw." Agatha petted it, even though it was shut down. "I wanted to see it."

"You are no fun at all," the Castle informed her. Apparently it wanted to get them in trouble. (Gil had to admit, to himself anyway, that chasing a lockpicking dragon all over the Castle sounded like fun. But Baron Wulfenbach and Madame Von Pinn... or Otilia... _would_ be really mad.)

"I wanna explore _all over you_," Agatha told it. She gave the inert dragon clank a final pat and got up to head for one of the shelves. "Just... not and scare Uncle Barry. Maybe when we have all night or something." She pulled down a box and made a satisfied noise. "C'mon, Gil, let's make a generator."

Gil jumped down from his stool and ran over to see what she'd found. Magnets, as it turned out. They made the mistake of setting the box down on a metal table and then couldn't get it off again without prying all the magnets out individually, and the Castle laughed at them the whole time. They found a good one, though, and Agatha was winding the wire while Gil built a crank when there was a knock at the door.

Agatha looked up, confused. "Uh, hi?"

"Lunch, Mistress," a voice called.

Agatha and Gil exchanged a confused look. Agatha went to the door, which probably wasn't necessary, and opened it. "Thank you? Miss...?"

The young woman made to hand her the tray, then stopped with some consternation on realising it was nearly as big as Agatha. "Mirela. Ah, is it safe to step inside, Mistress?"

Agatha looked at Gil and shrugged. "I think so. We're okay. Thank you for lunch?"

Miss Mirela left the tray and retreated. Agatha looked at Gil after the door shut. "I guess she's new."

Gil nodded. "The food looks good," he said, grabbing a large sandwich in both hands.

Agatha gave the generator a longing look, but then her stomach growled. She giggled and plopped down to attack the cheese. "Thanks, Castle. I wasn't thinking about food."

"Your family usually don't," said the Castle.

She glanced up. "I'd've got hungry _sometime_..."

"Before finishing the generator?" the Castle asked.

"Um..."

"As I thought."

"I did say thank you," said Agatha. "But I hope we can still finish the generator before Uncle Barry gets back."

Gil looked doubtfully at the wire and magnet. "That depends how long they are, I guess."

Agatha chewed her lip. "We could take it with us?"

"The dragon?" Gil looked at it thoughtfully. "We could probably put the little ones in our pockets, but I think they'd notice that one."

Agatha blinked. "I wasn't gonna hide it."

"Oh. You think they'd let us take clanks home with us?" Maybe Gil was a little too used to hiding things he wanted to hang onto. They had got the music box back even though they hadn't been meant to be making it.

Agatha grinned at him. "Why not?"

"They might not want us to pick all the locks on Castle Wulfenbach," said Gil. "Although I'd like to."

"Oh. Hm." Agatha looked at their dragon thoughtfully. "I guess taking those off until later would be too obvious."

"Maybe we could take them out and replace them temporarily?" said Gil. "With normal claws, although then they might wonder what it was for."

Agatha brightened. "Oooh. Then it just looks like a fun toy."

"And this will worry them less than you wandering around me?" asked the Castle.

"It will if they don't know about it," said Gil, unfolding a claw and looking for the screws holding the talons on.

"Yeah," Agatha agreed, bringing over a bit of metal to see if it was about right for turning into a replacement claw. "Like exploring you at night, see?"

After a moment, the Castle said, "You may be slightly more interesting than I thought."

Agatha patted the floor. "Does that mean you'll recharge the dragon for us when we're done?"

"I'll consider it," said the Castle.

Agatha grinned, apparently considering this enough of a victory. They managed to get the claws replaced _and_ finish lunch without getting any crumbs in the mechanisms, and Castle Heterodyne agreed to turn on the dragonfly clanks, which flew around the room in formation. They were still winding wire for the generator, though, when the door opened again to reveal the grown-ups and the Muse.

"How are you doing in here?" Barry asked, looking around at the clutter of dragons. He picked a dragonfly out of the air on its way past and peered at it.

"Uncle Barry!" Agatha abandoned the generator and went to pick up the de-lockpicked dragon clank. "Can we take this one with us?" She stopped, looking up at Otilia. Or Madame Von Pinn. "Um. And... did it work?"

"Yes, child, it worked," said Otilia, bending down to rest a hand on Agatha's shoulder. Gil stared at her. She still looked a bit scary, especially with her clothes and hair in rags and those huge ragged wings, as if she'd been through a fight and hadn't let it stop her, but it was a different _kind_ of scary from Von Pinn.

Agatha was looking up as if a bit enchanted. "What did you do with your other body?" Okay, apparently not enchanted like somebody who'd been reading about the Storm King...

"It was never my body, merely one I was forced to inhabit," said Otilia. "It is in the laboratory."

"Oh." Agatha tilted her head. "What are you gonna do with it?"

Otilia looked back at Klaus and Barry. "I recommend destroying it. It will still be compelled to obey Lucrezia's voice and it has no mind of its own beyond that."

Barry grimaced. "I was thinking of giving it a chance to develop one, but I admit there's probably not a very good foundation."

Gil walked over uncertainly. She was still Von Pinn, but she was also a Muse, and he wasn't quite sure how to react to that. But as soon as he got close enough she surprised him by picking him up and hugging him, the metal of her body cool and vibrating very slightly. "I have not changed that much, Master Gil," she said.

He nodded and hid his face against her shoulder for a moment, despite the faint smell of mildew from the dress. "I'm glad you're in a body you like now," he mumbled.

"And she's decided Klaus already found her dream job," Barry said after a moment, his voice soft and light. "He's always been good at that."

"You're staying?" said Gil, looking up.

"Yes. I am staying," Otilia told him. "I dread to think what trouble all of you would get into without me."

"Good," said Gil. "I'd miss you."

"Me too!" Agatha piped up. "I'm glad you didn't just like us 'cause you had to."

"You are quite likeable enough," said Otilia, ruffling her hair. "Now, what is it you are attempting to bring back with you?" she added, with more severity.

"A dragon clank." Agatha held it up. "It looks like fun. Gil's trying to figure out how to scale one up so it can still fly."

Barry's mouth quirked. "That is a little bit of a problem for Franz..."

Otilia inspected the clank. "It seems harmless enough," she conceded. "If Master Barry and Baron Wulfenbach agree to your bringing things home you may."

The dragonfly clanks had returned to hover over the group, possibly because of their trapped member.

"I think I'd better look at that a bit more closely," Barry put in, releasing his dragonfly back to the swarm and taking the dragon. He peered into its mouth, then opened it up along the spine and took out a small fuel tank. "I could be wrong," he said, giving his friend a wry glance, "but I'd guess Klaus would just as soon you not bring self-propelled _flamethrowers_ onto his airship. Without that, it may be fine."

"Really? A flamethrower?" said the Baron, shaking his head and leaning over to get a look at it himself. "But without that they can bring it along."

"Well, it _is_ a dragon," Barry said reasonably. He gave the dragonflies a thoughtful look, then closed the clank back up and returned it to Agatha. "It may turn out to be pretty lively, flamethrowers aside."

"Castle Heterodyne said Gradok had to chase it sometimes," Agatha admitted. "I'll probably have to hang on to it in open places so it doesn't get lost."

"Just remember to shut the laboratory doors before turning it on," said the Baron.

There was a throat clearing sound from the wall. "If you would proceed to the main doors, the people of Mechanicsburg are gathering to welcome the new heir."

"Thank you, Castle," Barry said. "Agatha..." He trailed off with a strange air of not knowing what to say. "Let's go."

"Okay!" Agatha gave a small skip and took his hand, but then looked back at Gil with a faintly worried expression. "So... this is the Doom Bell? With the bad memories?"

"Yes." Barry squeezed her hand slightly. "You'll be all right. And so will Gil."

"It's okay," said Gil, as Otilia set him down and took his hand. He was feeling at least as much anticipation as fear, if it brought up memories then could it bring up those he'd lost? Even if it was only the bad ones it would be something.

Agatha smiled at him, just a little, and they left Gradok's laboratory. The dragonflies tried to follow them. "Castle," Barry said, "I actually do like those, but this is not the best time to appear with an escort of bugs."

"Try a two-note whistle," suggested the Castle.

Barry blinked, then whistled. The dragonflies formed up and hovered in front of him, waiting. He regarded them for a moment, then reached out to let the largest sit on his finger and very carefully took it back inside to set it down on a table. The rest of them swooped down to rest behind it. "Stay," he said, in a tone somewhat more experimental than commanding.

"They take only very limited verbal commands," said the Castle, sounding amused.

Barry took a step back; they didn't move. "I might come back and work out the control panel later."

"It's a bit of a strange one," said the Castle. "Gradok was very young and used what was to hand - a control panel based on the height of a number of tiny screws isn't the most efficient to set."

"Interesting, though," Barry said, as they set off again (this time without the dragonflies). "What was he up to?"

"Attempting to catch his sister kissing Ogglespoon," said the Castle. Gil thought that sounded like a rather odd reason to invent anything, if he had a sister he couldn't imagine he'd want to see her kissing people.

Barry gave a surprised snort of laughter. "Oh, of course."

They reached the doors without adding anyone else to the party, and they swung open on an even bigger crowd than Gil was expecting. Barry picked Agatha up and held her high, and everybody cheered loudly enough that even Castle Heterodyne had to raise its voice.

"I present the Lady Heterodyne, heir to Mechanicsburg," boomed the Castle. As the cheer afterwards died away the Doom Bell began to toll. Gil clutched at Otilia as memories welled up. Confusion, misery, all the times he'd felt broken and useless for knowing so little of himself, all the times he'd been picked on. And a dark feeling, deeper and darker than he'd felt at the time, seeming to vibrate through him with each chime. He clutched at Otilia's leg, burying his face against her hip as she held him. It was only after the sound faded that he realised none of the memories had been new, none of them going back to before his time at the school, and even shaking with the aftereffects he had time to be disappointed.

When he looked around it seemed like _everything_ was shaking for a moment, Otilia and the stones of the Castle and all the people, even the Baron, everything except Barry and Agatha. A few people in the crowd had fallen all the way over and were being picked up by the vibrating people next to them.

Barry let Agatha down and she ran over to Gil. "That was weird," she whispered. "Are you okay?"

Gil shook his head without thinking and then said quickly, "It's okay now it's over." He added, more quietly, "I thought I might remember something, but I didn't."

Agatha went a little wide-eyed and then hugged him, apparently unconcerned with the fact that _everybody was watching them_. (And cheering again, mostly. Probably not about the hug.) Gil hugged her back and tried not to look embarrassed. It was just... a bunch of people he didn't know. And Otilia, but she was Von Pinn. And Barry Heterodyne. And - ack - Baron Wulfenbach, who looked tired and like the bell hadn't felt very good to him either.

"Back inside, I think," Barry said, quietly but somehow easy to hear over the noise anyway. The great doors closed, shutting them away from the crowd and the open sky, which was sort of a relief at the moment. Castle Wulfenbach was big, and it had windows, but it was still weird being on the ground... the horizon was closer but the walls didn't wrap around. "You kids both handled that really well."

"It didn't feel like Baron Wulfenbach said," Agatha told him, then glanced at Gil. "At least to me."

"I wasn't sure how it would feel to you," Barry admitted. "Heterodynes usually seem to take it a little differently. And people from Mechanicsburg mostly get used to it."

"It was very strange," said Gil. "Why was it being rung? Um. It doesn't seem like it would make people feel very happy about a new heir."

Barry rubbed the back of his neck. "Yes, well... We are traditionally a little ominous."

"You're not," said Gil. He didn't think it explained why everyone had been so happy, either. Apparently they enjoyed bells that made you feel sad and ominous leaders.

"Thanks." Barry smiled at him a little wryly. "I'm serious about your taking it well, by the way. Most people from out of town pass out the first time they hear it. Anyway-" He looked up to meet the Baron's eyes instead, looking amused for some reason. "I thought we should all go have cocoa."

Maybe he hadn't passed out because he didn't have as many memories as most people, Gil thought. He smiled at Barry. "Cocoa would be nice."


	8. In Vhich Dere iz Jägerkin!

Otilia's return to Castle Wulfenbach caused quite a stir, the children crowding around her excitedly until she proved she was still Von Pinn by sending all the younger ones to bed for a nap and demanding the older ones sit down and do something _quiet_. The latter was, Barry suspected, writing to their parents about being taught by a Muse. With Agatha confirmed to be asleep, Barry and Klaus met for a rather belated lunch. It wasn't until they'd finished eating that Klaus said, "There's something I need to talk to you about before we leave Mechanicsburg."

Barry gave him a thoughtful look. "This sounds like something you suspected would ruin my appetite," he said wryly. "What's on your mind?"

"Before you returned I had a deal with the Jägers," said Klaus. "They would serve me until a Heterodyne was found. As that happened rather sooner than expected - to the relief of all of us - the deal is void. But I doubt you were planning to use them for anything, so I was wondering if I could hire them from you."

Barry stared without actually _seeing_ his old friend for a moment, his vision caught up in faint red haze and old nightmare. He and Bill had discussed, once in their distant youth, the idea of releasing the Jägers from their service. But the Jägers had sworn lifelong service - for what often turned out to be a very long life. Their homes and frequently their descendants were all in Mechanicsburg. It wouldn't have been either fair or practical to break the agreement. And... what they might do if turned loose across Europe hadn't borne thinking about. The possibility that they'd take it into their heads to resume old raiding habits in his absence (to be fair, it likely wouldn't have been just the Jägers, but they'd have been the most effective) had been one of several things that had kept Barry awake at night and driven him to travel faster homeward.

He'd seen the Jägers at war before. Defending Mechanicsburg, yes, that was fine, but thirty years ago his father had dragged him and Bill on some miserable raiding journeys. He vividly remembered their joy in the fight and their callousness toward the terrified people whose lives and livelihoods they were destroying. "Klaus," he said, a little hoarsely, and then discarded both _**Hell**__ no_ and _Are you out of your __**mind**__?_ in favor of saying, "I'm not sure you've thought this one through."

...Well, that was a stupid reply. Klaus had certainly had _time_ to think it through.

"They are soldiers and I needed an army," said Klaus. "I trusted them to hold to an agreement with me. With you here there's no need even to trust to that. Whatever you tell them will be obeyed."

"I'm not so sure about that," Barry muttered. "Klaus, you _have_ an army. You took down Teufel already." Barry hadn't heard much about the Black Mist Raiders until after the fact; Teufel, or Kipp, had been operating farther to the west. Klaus had fought him on both military and technical grounds and won, which accounted for several regions eagerly clustering under the umbrella of the nascent Empire.

Granted, the Jägers might still beat Klaus's forces on the field. More likely yet from a walled town, although Klaus definitely would have had air superiority before Castle Heterodyne was repaired. Mechanicsburg had been reluctant to fight partly because the consequences of _winning_ - with no Heterodyne, most of their neighbors less than pleased with the result, and against an old friend - might have been more troublesome if less embarrassing than losing. Of course, the Dreen would have been a problem. And why was he even thinking in these terms?

Klaus grimaced. "It wasn't exactly easy."

"And you're going to tell me a _better_ army means fewer casualties on your side and probably overall than drawing things out, aren't you?"

"Yes," said Klaus. "This isn't relevant now, but that wasn't my only reason for wanting to take them. They are less vulnerable than most monsters, more able to think for themselves, but without a sense of purpose they are easily distracted. And their sense of purpose was always your family. People would have seen the chance to wipe them out before a new Heterodyne arrived to command them again." He smiled slightly. "Besides which, I do trust them, more than I trust a human army. They are predictable, broadly, if chaotic in the specifics. Merciless but not sadistic, with no particular desires beyond fighting, staying together and pleasing their masters. _Very_ hard to subvert or lure away."

Only Klaus, Barry thought, in all of Europa, would come up with the idea that he needed to _protect the Jägers_. He had a point, though. The old Heterodynes had earned the hatred of their neighbors near and far, over and over again. He and Bill had changed, among other things, the popular view of the name and the town, but that didn't erase old grudges and they'd made enemies as well as friends of their own. And while the main responsibility had always been their family's and the enthusiasm pretty widely spread, the Jägers were both highly recognisable and in many cases actually the _same people_ other towns were mad at. Which led to the other astonishing thing Klaus had said. "_Not_ sadistic?"

"I suppose that's a matter of opinion," Klaus conceded. "They certainly enjoy beating their opponents thoroughly. But they don't attack people who can't fight back, or, usually, anyone who they haven't been sent to attack. They enjoy the fight more than the kill."

"They enjoy the kill well enough," Barry said. "I've _seen_ them fight." But so had Klaus. In Mechanicsburg, where they'd all fought alongside them and Klaus had fought _with_ them just for fun. All too likely he'd seen them fight in his own town. Their father would hardly have taken Bill to attack another fortified town _without_ any Jägers.

"They might enjoy it, but they will forgo it," said Klaus. "They fought differently under you and Bill than they did under your father. And I've seen them fight each other. I've seen them fight human friends too, and not leave anything more than bruises."

Barry had... known that, or should have known that. Obviously Klaus's scraps with them hadn't led to anything that bad, although Klaus was - of course - tougher than an unaltered human anyway. Even for a Spark. Barry didn't think of the Jägers as likely to show restraint on their own, but there were times they did. "You... know them better than I do, in some ways, don't you." It was quiet, and not quite a question.

"I always rather liked them," said Klaus, which was not quite an answer.

"I know. That always puzzled me."

"Why not? I enjoy a good fight too," Klaus said flippantly, then continued more seriously. "They asked me for stories. Because you never took any of them I became a sort of honorary Jäger for them, I think. They demanded news of you they way they would from any of their own who had been taken on a special mission."

Barry had enjoyed fighting, once. Against mindless enemies, and not because they were easier. Against people, if they could win without killing. The matching of wit and skill. He thought the danger itself, the challenge of winning when lives were at stake, had appealed to Bill in a way it hadn't to him. But Bill would have done it and Barry would have gone with him even if none of it had been any fun. And had still, when it wasn't. The last few sickening years, against revenants who _hadn't_ been mindless before the wasps got them, against the Geisterdamen and their devotion... "I didn't know that."

"You should talk to them," said Klaus. "I don't know whether you'd find it reassuring but you'd probably find it instructive."

"You're right. I should have done it more a long time ago, probably." Barry sighed. "I do know they'd _enjoy_ going with you, a lot more than staying here. I'm worried they'd enjoy it a little too much. They have... in some cases literally centuries of habitual brutality, in real fights. And we didn't leave them home solely because we were afraid they'd get out of hand. A Jäger army is going to bring up bad memories for a lot of people, mostly _not_ the ones who actually wanted to start anything."

"That is a point," Klaus admitted. "I was planning to use them as something of a last resort, at least when it wasn't a case of clearing up slavers or someone's feral creations, and to threaten to send them in more often than actually do so. Which might be less interesting than they were hoping for, but you are right that I couldn't send them in without people expecting the worst."

"I suppose they'd actually be thrilled to be turned loose against stray... anything, really," Barry said, then paused, thunderstruck and not sure whether to be horrified. "Or the... Klaus, they'd eat the wasps for lunch. _Literally._ I'd better ask if they tried it already, if anyone was affected, I haven't seen all of them since I got back-"

"They prefer them cooked," said Klaus. "But they _are_ immune. A few wasps managed to get down their throats and they just swallowed. They assure me there were no effects."

"Okay," Barry said slowly, alarm fading. "That's good." A little perplexing, but certainly good. Maybe the Jägerbrau's own modifications were too extensive for the slavers to handle. "In that case, we'd _better_ set them against the wasps, at least."

"Does that mean you'd be willing to let them come with me? I'll be travelling to places where that's needed more than you will," said Klaus. "Not that they'll all come, with a Heterodyne in Mechanicsburg I expect some will insist on guarding you whether you want them to or not."

Barry's mouth twitched. "Now that you mention it, with Agatha aboard Castle Wulfenbach, I'm not sure how far you'd get without any."

"They _might_ trust me to keep her safe. Or more likely Otilia," said Klaus, sounding amused. "But yes. I expect they'd sooner keep both of you close right now. There's a difference between sending bodyguards, though, and trusting me with the greater part of the group."

"I do trust you. I always have. Even when we didn't agree."

"I appreciate it," said Klaus. "Perhaps I should have said, whether you trust the greater part of the group to go with me and still behave when you're not there."

How much did he trust them to behave when he _was_ there? Could he in good conscience send Jägers into other people's lands, and with Mechanicsburg otherwise defended, could he in good conscience refuse to send them against wasps? "I'm thinking about that. I'm..." Barry smiled a bit ruefully. "_Trying_ to think about it rationally."

"I won't demand an answer right now. If necessary it can wait until after we've been to Beetleburg, since I'll be returning you here," said Klaus. "But I will need an answer then."

"Fair enough." Barry suspected he shouldn't be _amused_ by being given a deadline. "You're right that I should talk to them," he said, more briskly. "And I'm not fool enough to think we can still fight every battle personally with no more than half a dozen friends along." Strictly speaking, they hadn't quite done that, even back in the day. But taking Jägers would have sent entirely the wrong message no matter how well they behaved.

...He wondered if he could change that.

* * *

Barry spent much of the rest of the afternoon deep in thought, in between the involved processes of catching up on recent developments in Mechanicsburg and attempting to discourage Castle Heterodyne's suddenly renewed interest in getting him married off. Somehow he'd thought introducing it to Agatha would have the opposite effect, but no.

Just after sunset, he walked into Gkika's. It smelt of smoke and alcohol and Jäger - this last being the equilibrated result of vigorous good health and rare bathing, something like vinegar and leather - and by the turned heads and flared nostrils it was clear that none of that pungent mixture disguised _his_ arrival in the slightest.

"I'll buy the next round," he said, when he reached the bar. "Old Hypothesis for me."

Gkika poured it for him herself, while the clank waitresses set about pouring out the round he'd just bought for everyone else, and handed it to him with a grin. "Here hyu go, Sveetie. Velcome home."

"Thank you." Barry sipped at his drink. "It's good to be back."

"Hyu gun bring hyu niece to meet us sometime? Der Kestle likes her spirit," she said, grin turning outright wicked for a moment.

What in the world had Agatha and Gil been doing with the dragon clanks? "I'd say I think she's a little young for this place, but after I let the Castle babysit, I'm not sure I'd have a leg to stand on."

"Tch. Hy keep her behind der bar, not out dere," she said, gesturing to the bar itself. "Not fair on der customers to haff people dey got to vorry about breakink."

"Right." Barry looked at her thoughtfully. That was a pretty good segue, probably on purpose. "Speaking of whether to worry about breaking people, Klaus mentioned the deal I interrupted."

Around them ears were pricking up, both literally and metaphorically. "Ve vondered vhether he'd mention dot," she said. "He still hoping to get hyu permission?"

"Oh, yes. Most of the same reasons still hold. I told him I'd think about it."

She rested one hand on the bar, painted claws tapping a lazy rhythm. "Hyu vanna tell me vot hyu iz tinking about it?"

Barry raised his eyes to meet hers. "I'm thinking that there are a lot of people, a lot of towns, that need help out there. The wasps are horrors, but they're really just the start."

"Grr." For a moment she looked feral, lips drawn back in distaste. "Dose tings are der vorst."

"They are," Barry said, looking at her curiously. "I've seen - far too many of them, the past few years. Klaus tells me the Jägerkin are all immune, which is certainly a relief."

"Yah," she said, relaxing. "Vouldn't vant any of dose tings controlling my boys. Zo, hyu tink is okay to send uz after dem?"

"They all need to die," Barry said darkly, "so yes, most likely."

"Zo, at vorst ve get a modified agreement to go after bogz," she said.

"I imagine Klaus would agree to that." In the unlikely event that he didn't, Barry thought he might have to take them out himself, once things were a little more settled here. At the rate he'd been running across hive engines just on the journey with Agatha, if even a small percentage of the ones that had fallen were still viable... "Everybody was looking forward to it, weren't you?"

She turned away slightly, resting one hip on the bar. "Iz not so simple as that. Hy vasn't going anyvay. But, yah, Klaus vants uz to fight, ve vant to fight, it vorks out nize."

"Why weren't - ah. Anyone who needed serious medical attention would have come back here?" With no Heterodyne to provide it, but if they'd survived the trip Gkika could probably at least keep them relatively comfortable.

"Yah." She smiled at him, this time not her fangy grin but an oddly serious smile. "Ve vas looking forward to it, but not as much as haffing hyu beck."

Barry blinked at her, taken a little off guard. "Despite my longstanding habit of spoiling your fun? Not that I haven't felt welcomed, but..."

"Hy said it vasn't simple. Ve vould haff gone vit Klaus, but it vould haff felt like giving op on hyu. Dere vas talk of volunteers, sending some of uz out to look for hyu or hyu heirs." This grin was sharp in at least two senses of the word. "Ve dun giff op on our Heterodynes, Sveetie. Und effen hyu haven't yet giffen op on uz."

That was... touching, and stinging at the same time. "I'm not planning on it," he said, a little sharply in his turn. But had he, had they, all along in one sense? They'd spent so much time trying to talk everybody else around to their point of view, but the Jägers... did what he and Bill told them, even though they didn't like it, out of loyalty to the ancestors whose behaviour the new Heterodynes were rejecting. Arguing with them had always felt more than a little awkward, somewhere between bullying and being humoured.

"Do hyu vant Klaus to succeed in vot he iz doing?"

"Yes." Barry raised his eyebrows. "If I didn't, I wouldn't be trying to help."

"Den trust uz to do vot hyu vant, not chust vot hyu say," she said, seriously. "Hy ken't promise perfect judgement from der boyz," she added, rolling her eyes. "But Klaus knows dem, he von't ask for vot dey ken't manage."

Barry sat back, definitely surprised this time... a little chagrined, and rather more fascinated. "Well, I can see why he thought I needed to talk to you more," he said. The Castle didn't even _pretend_ it was going to do what he meant if he wasn't careful enough about what he actually said.

"Uz Generals should haff spoken to hyu too. But hyu vas goot boys, and haffing fun fighting hyu own way."

Of course it would have looked to the Jägers like he and Bill were hogging all the fun. Barry rubbed his forehead and rested his elbows on the bar again. "Honestly, regardless of how they acted, I think taking Jägers with us early on would have panicked everybody we wanted to stop and _listen_ to us. But I am starting to think we should have asked for a squad to come meet us once the wasps started showing up." They hadn't even exactly decided not to; it just hadn't crossed their minds. Not his, anyway, and he was pretty sure Bill would have done anything he thought of that looked like it might speed their search and destroy more of the wasps. Slowly, he continued, "There's still a considerable risk of panicking people now. Which is partly what Klaus has in mind and... in some cases might be necessary. But I'd like to minimise it." A wry look. "Especially when you're actually there to fight wasps or runaway clanks or grapevine-piranha hybrids or something. I speak from experience, it's easier to rescue people who don't think they need to be rescued _from_ you."

"Hmm." Gkika tapped a claw against her chin and contemplatively turned blue. "Gun be difficult. But, vell, it vorks around Mechanicsburg und some of der villages. Pipple who iz used to uz being on their side iz less scared. Und pipple who fight alongside uz..." She gave the crowd in the bar a calculating look. "Vell, dot ken depend. Some of der boyz extend 'Jägers dun't leave anyvun behind' further den others."

Jägers didn't leave each _other_ behind out of a mix of long - often _very_ long - camaraderie, and protectiveness of the Heterodyne secrets involved in their biology. Barry found it encouraging that they did extend the former, in some cases, to their relatively ephemeral companions. "I'm fairly good at convincing people of things," he said. It had taken significant work to persuade people that he and Bill were not, in fact, bloodthirsty maniacs out to conquer or lay waste to Europe and perhaps significant swathes of Asia. This might be somewhat more complicated, but hopefully his reputation was solid enough. "If I _tell_ people you're not actually there to destroy everything, word will get around." So long as they backed him up, of course.

"Ve haff managed minimal destruction in der past. But dot vas usually for Heterodynes who vere tryink for another Empire und vanted der cities relatively intact."

"That applies here," said Barry. "Approximately, anyway. I want..." He rocked his glass in a half-circle, thinking. It was asking a lot, maybe, of the Jägers and the universe. That didn't mean it wasn't worth asking. "The past Heterodyne Empires never lasted all that long. A few generations, maybe. Granted, sometimes that was because the next Heterodyne got bored with the idea... but basically, the problem was that people really didn't want to be in them." This was not exactly the _only_ problem from his perspective, but it was a reasonable summary. "The Jägerkin would be very different, if you weren't volunteers."

"Hyu ken tell hyu vas raised in Mechanicsburg after all," she said. "Iz asking a lot to vant der whole vorld to be der same vay."

Barry couldn't help grinning at that. "I'm not going _that_ far," he said. "But I don't want everything we do to fall apart in a few decades, either, and I do believe it's more likely to hold up the more people join in willingly."

"Vell. Iz not up to me to say vot a Heterodyne ken't achieve if dey try," she said, smiling back. "Vill be plenty of fightink vitout terrorising anyvun, und it vould be interesting to see an Empire dot ecktually lasts."

"So far, 'Heterodynes are terrifying' hasn't kept any of them going that long - for us _or_ the Storm King." Klaus being terrifying seemed likewise temporary. Most likely there would always be somebody they had to fight, but if they could get people to _try_ cooperating again - and Barry was willing to use charisma and reputation and Bill's memory if necessary to sweep them off their feet, where sound argument wasn't enough - then hopefully the real benefits would convince them to stick with it. Barry lifted his glass of Old Hypothesis. "Seems to be worth testing something else."

"Zo how much of dis does Klaus know?" she asked. "Ve gun be vorking vit him or around him?"

She caught him mid-swallow, and Barry put his drink down rather hastily and coughed. "With," he said. "What he doesn't know yet, he will."

She gave him a rather wicked grin. "Sounds goot. Hyu vant me to tok to de other Generals?"

"Please. We should probably all get together to work out the details at some point." Barry offered a grin of his own, a little wry but with a hint of mischief in it. "And decide who's coming to Beetleburg."

"Hy ken tink of a few who vould like dot." She poured a drink of One Mean Mead for herself and held it up. "To new plenz."

"New plans and old friends." _Who warn us when the new plans are getting a little out of hand._ Barry clinked his glass against hers and drained it.


	9. Nearly Everybody Visits Beetleburg

Klaus was somewhat amused at how well _talk to the Jägers_ had actually worked as a suggestion. Not that he'd ever doubted they'd obey Barry, but Barry seemed much happier about using them and they seemed surprisingly on board with a plan that was going to avoid violence where possible, without it just being because it was their Heterodyne's plan and they'd go along with it regardless. Apparently they were willing to consider saving people as the non-boring option when they got to do it too. Currently there was a small group of them aboard Castle Wulfenbach, to guard Agatha and Barry and, less officially but no less enthusiastically, to visit Punch and Judy.

Getting to Beetleburg would have been faster in a small ship, but with Agatha and Otilia the ones that needed to go there it was easier to bring along the school. They had sent word ahead to Beetle, of course, and also to Punch and Judy.

Beetle's reply had been oddly formal, but arrived fast enough that Klaus tried to hire the courier long-term. (She declined to join his fleet and provide exclusive service, but as she'd docked with them for receipt or delivery twenty-three times between Mechanicsburg and Beetleburg, this was arguably becoming a moot point.) On arrival, they were to meet at the university - Klaus suspected this was partly to avoid the question of why "Adam and Lilith Clay" were getting such interesting visitors.

He quelled a wild impulse to invite Gil along when they collected Otilia and a highly excited Agatha from the school, and they descended on the old familiar campus. The Jägers might have been the only reason they _weren't_ swarmed by curious students. Beetle came out to meet them, looking slightly fretful. "Klaus! Barry! You both look well, you... ah..." He went from anxious to goggle-eyed as Otilia swept off the airship. "You actually brought a Muse."

"I did say that," said Klaus.

"I wasn't sure you were serious," Beetle said, sounding rather dazed. "_Enchanté, Madame._"

Barry smothered a laugh. Mostly. "It's good to see you too."

"A pleasure," said Otilia. "I'm told you can fix my wings." Her wings were currently skeletal: when she had taken off the rags she had been wearing she had been given a new dress but opted to leave feathers until her wings were fixed. It gave her a slightly spooky look, still, even though she was far closer to looking like the Muse in the murals than she had been at first.

"I believe so." Beetle gave Klaus and Barry a curious look. "I confess, I'm a little surprised these two didn't do it themselves. Won't you come to my laboratory?" He gestured to the nearest building.

"Yes, please," Agatha chirped.

That did make Barry chuckle. "Yes, and we can introduce _you_ to everyone there."

"Would I rob you of the opportunity?" said Klaus, following along as Otilia walked after Beetle.

"I must confess I am very curious about your plans here," Beetle began. But it hadn't taken long to reach his laboratory, and Punch and Judy were there, alive (Klaus had _known_ that, but...) and rising to greet them and converge on Barry.

"Master Barry. We were starting to get worried. And this must be Agatha. Klaus-" Judy, unexpectedly, tore herself away from Barry and Agatha to hug him. "We were _definitely_ worried about you."

"I was worried about you," he told her, hugging back with some embarrassment. "I had no idea you were in Beetleburg, when I got back it seemed as if everyone had vanished."

"Oh dear. I suppose it must have." She stepped back, but kept hold of his shoulders for a moment, looking into his eyes as if searching for something. "What _happened_?"

Klaus glanced at Beetle. He wasn't sure whether Barry intended to make it known that Lucrezia had been the Other, and while he could tell her part in his disappearance without bringing that up it would probably be better to avoid talking about her. Besides, it was embarrassing. "I'll tell you later," he promised.

"Long story," Barry added, helpfully if only semi-truthfully. Klaus had told him enough about his time in Skifander to qualify, but it _could_ have been summarised briefly. Evidently he didn't want to go into detail either.

"Oh, all right." Judy returned to Punch's side - he was now holding Agatha, who seemed entirely pleased with this arrangement - and regarded both Klaus and Barry with a little bafflement. "You two," she began. "Speaking of - of worrying, and long stories. What on Earth?"

"It started as a way to defend Wulfenbach," Klaus said, trying to suppress the feeling he was about to be scolded for trying to take over Europe.

"It needs doing," Barry said quietly. Klaus tried not to feel relieved. "We are not... any more out of our minds than usual."

Punch raised an eyebrow. "Taking over Europe," Judy said skeptically, "needs doing? Isn't that what nearly everybody's been trying to do since the Other vanished?"

"Yes, but not very well," said Barry. "Old games and old grudges. We are, at this point, basically back to trying to get people to stop tearing things up and hitting them if they won't, but with as many people as we've _lost_... we can't just hand the administration back to whoever's in the area anymore and move on. Too many of them are dead or defenseless."

Judy pursed her lips. Beetle looked up from his apparently distracted contemplation of Otilia's wings, and pushed his glasses up his nose. "And what of those of us who are not dead, defenseless, nor a threat to our neighbors, but in your path?" Klaus had just inhaled, starting to feel annoyed that even some of his own friends apparently meant to assume the worst, when Beetle nodded to the Muse and added, "Is _she_ advising you?"

"No," said Otilia. "He is hiring me as a teacher, not an advisor, and I am not obliged to play that role."

Klaus raised his eyebrows, and both Beetle and Barry looked interested. He doubted any of them had ever heard somebody sound quite so emphatically pleased at _not_ being asked for advice before.

"A teacher?" Dr. Beetle asked, looking thoughtful.

"Surely you'd heard about the school aboard Castle Wulfenbach?" Barry returned smoothly. "A few years on, I imagine you'll be seeing some of its pupils here. Hopefully they'll cause you less trouble than we did. Otilia, do you mind terribly if we talk behind your back, here?" At her amused consent, he settled down with Beetle and passed along tools as they spoke. To Klaus's own amusement, Otilia actually started chatting quietly with one of the Jägers in lieu of participating. "We actually hope to make it easier for you to go on as you always have," Barry began, which was true enough - Beetleburg's internal rules were functional, if a little pitiless, and Klaus had been deeply relieved to learn that Dr. Beetle himself, the town, and his old university were still intact. He wondered if that was because Lucrezia had still been sentimental about it as well. "But we have some ideas for collaborative projects..."

As Barry set about infecting Dr. Beetle with his enthusiasm for improved travel, apparently as a gateway to alliance, Klaus noticed Punch was moving off to let Agatha look (without grabbing) at the laboratory equipment, and Judy made a small motion to catch his eye. Klaus nodded slightly in return and went to join her.

"I _am_ sorry about not getting in touch," she said quietly, voice pitched not to carry toward the cheerful efforts at negotiation by the workbenches. "Wulfenbach was actually one of the few places we left any information about our plans, just in case, but..."

"Thank you for trying," Klaus answered. Not much had survived, so it wasn't surprising the information hadn't.

"It must have been a nightmare to come back to."

Klaus nodded, thinking of returning to find most of his town in ruins, and with Gil to protect as well. "I'm glad you were safe. Beetleburg doesn't seem to have been too badly hit."

"No. We only had wasps and revenants approach from outside, no direct hits." Her eyes were a little haunted, all the same. "Adam and I weren't even in Mechanicsburg when everything began."

"Bill and Barry didn't come to you after the Castle was hit?"

She shook her head. "We got letters once in a while from Barry, but as they were fairly sure nobody in Beetleburg was likely to get away with holding Lucrezia hostage..."

"So you had no idea what had happened to them either," said Klaus. Or to him. It seemed as if their entire group must have been worrying about each other.

"Barry's last message said they'd located the Other, but didn't mention where. Then - nothing. At all." She shook her head ruefully. "Dr. Beetle tried to offer to go with them, but as we never really knew where they were until after the fact, and it was usually in the worst places, it's not surprising that they didn't seem to be getting _our_ letters."

"No. I wish I'd been here," said Klaus. They didn't seem to have taken any of their other friends with them, but he thought they might have taken him.

A soft huff. "Everybody wished you were here. Not just for that." She looked at him sideways. "The Masters spent the first year you were gone searching, too. Lucrezia swore you'd been fine the last she saw you, only disappointed - with no trail and no sign of violence, we finally all ran out of ideas."

Klaus sighed. He didn't want everyone to know, but Judy deserved to hear it. "Lucrezia shipped me to Skifander," he said.

"She _what_?" Judy stared at him for a moment, then muttered, "I can't say I never wondered if it was her fault, but I didn't think of that."

"I suppose Skifander was the farthest place she could think of," said Klaus.

"I suppose it would have to be." Judy grimaced slightly. "I didn't like to say so in front of Agatha, but to be honest, we moved partly because she was getting more irritating. And partly because the tourists were picking up, _again_, but..."

"What was she doing?" Klaus asked. He intended to tell Judy the whole thing, of course, but the question of why Lucrezia had done the things she did - how she had changed from playfully "evil" Spark into a truly evil and destructive force - was eating at him.

Judy looked a little guilty - of course, Barry wouldn't have put anything truly private into an unencrypted letter, so complaining of someone who'd died was... awkward. "Harassing the Jägers, for one thing. She was subtler with everyone else, but she'd have them do the most ridiculous things, apparently just to make the point that they _would_. I'm not sure she realised they were humouring her. But they were adamant about not telling Bill."

"Control," said Klaus, mostly to himself. Had she realised? Later, at least, that the race of obedient servants she'd thought she had were actually beings with their own will and opinions of her she couldn't control? Had she decided she needed a race that was that obedient? But he wasn't sure the revenants had even really been under her control, they'd done nothing but mindlessly spread wasps. He looked around to check no one was nearby. "There's something you need to know about Lucrezia," he said.

Judy gave him an uneasy look. "And what's that?"

He dropped his voice further. "She was the Other. Probably still is, in a sense, Barry and I are fairly sure there's a copy of her mind out there."

She went pale and a little green, and her eyes darted to Barry. "She and Bill killed each other, didn't they."

"Something like that. There may have been an explosion, I didn't press for details." Klaus looked at Barry as well. There was a light in his eyes now that there hadn't been when he'd returned, as he worked on talking Beetle around.

Judy closed her eyes for a moment and sighed. "He's doing better than I'd expect, after that. I imagine finding you again was a lot of it." She gave Klaus a searching look. "How have _you_ been? Really."

"Angry. With Lucrezia, with the people who destroyed my home, with… most of Europe, for falling apart so easily after all we did." He rubbed a hand across his forehead. "Better for finding people again."

She caught the back of his other hand and squeezed. Possibly still worried about their plan, but emphatically a friend regardless. "I'd imagine. Klaus..." She hesitated for a long moment, then, "What happened in Skifander?"

Klaus's lip twitched. "I got married."

Judy blinked at him as if it was taking her a few seconds to decide he wasn't joking. "Congratulations. I suppose that explains why you didn't hurry back."

"Thank you." He should probably tell her about Gil. Judy could definitely be trusted, and if he could announce Lucrezia was the Other without fearing being overheard he could mention Gil.

"Well?" She was giving him an expectant look. "Who's the lucky girl? And-" A wry look. "What brought you back now, if you didn't know?"

"Zantabraxus," he said, smiling. "I was rather surprised how glad she was to see me again." More soberly he continued. "That really is a long story. I have a son, Gilgamesh. And a daughter too, Zeetha, although she's still in Skifander. Gil's here. I'm keeping his identity secret but he's being educated on Castle Wulfenbach."

"That does sound like things got complicated," she murmured, sounding sympathetic. "Do we still get to meet him?"

"If you'd like to visit Castle Wulfenbach, then yes," he said. "I expect Agatha will introduce you."

Judy glanced over to where Agatha was cheerfully carrying on an extended conversation with Punch, regardless of the lack of verbal response. "Will she, now. We'll look forward to that."

"If you're interested, I'd like to ask you to teach music for us," he said. "Gil and Agatha are both musically inclined. With Agatha's family I suppose it would be surprising if she wasn't."

Judy looked startled and then thoughtful. "I'm honoured," she said, darting a look in Otilia's direction, "especially considering you already have a Muse teaching. Although I suppose that's not exactly Otilia's sphere."

"Not really," said Klaus.

A wry look. "Although we did come here partly to be less conspicuous."

"I'll understand if you want to remain in retirement," Klaus told her. "But the offer stands."

"Thank you." She smiled. "On both counts. We'll think about it. And I do look forward to meeting Gil."

"One thing," said Klaus. "He doesn't know he's my son. It's safer if it stays that way for now."

Judy looked at him as if he'd lost his mind. "What? But-"

"Excuse me," Dr. Beetle called, and they both looked over to see that he and Barry were surrounded by a U-shaped collection of chalkboards, all covered in small writing and large diagrams, and an inexplicable wild tangle of silken streamers, as if they had decided to try to build a cocoon instead of feathers and it had gone very poorly. Otilia sat completely expressionless and yet somehow Klaus still thought she looked amused. "Adam? Lilith? Klaus? Could anyone bring over two more blackboards and perhaps a pair of scissors?"

"It does look like we'd better, doesn't it?" Judy called back. "Let me guess," she added to Klaus, under her breath, "It's a long story?"

"Yes," he answered as quietly, looking around for some scissors. "I'll tell you and Punch later."

They set that question aside to free Barry, Dr. Beetle, and Otilia from each other, slightly hampered by the mistake of actually bringing the other chalkboards over before they were finished, which distracted all three Sparks. "Did they at least finish the mechanical repair?" Judy asked Otilia, unwinding a streamer from one of her wing struts and taking it over to be efficiently clipped according to the feather pattern.

"Yes, thank you," said Otilia, flexing the freed strut.

Klaus paused at this exchange, then collected all the chalk and took it across the room to eliminate further temptation. He caught Punch trying not to smile.

Judy looked sidelong at Otilia. "You know," she said, "I'm afraid I keep half forgetting we had already met."

"That's understandable," said Otilia. "I wasn't precisely myself at the time."

"No, I suppose not. It must be a relief."

"Very much so," said Otilia. "Organic bodies are just too much trouble, and," she gave the watching Jägers a severe look, "get too much unwanted attention."

Judy's mouth quirked. "Oh dear. I suppose you _would_ have appeared to be the Jägerkin's type." Her glance at the nearest Jäger was distinctly mischievous. "My sympathies."

The Jäger grinned. "Iz not our fault she ken't appreciate quality."

"I didn't realise soon enough that wounding them counts as encouragement," said Otilia.

"Oh, yes, I can see where that would be a problem."

"At least they get the picture now. Just as well, since I'm going to have to live with having them aboard Castle Wulfenbach now."

"Hyu know hyu'd miss uz," another Jäger put in cheerfully.

"You'd certainly be hard to forget," Judy told him.

That got her a proud smile from the Jäger and a small, amused headshake from Otilia.

Judy shrugged slightly. "I imagine you got much more of a reaction than I did. I just ended up teaching them to knit."

Otilia actually looked surprised at that. "How did that come up?"

Barry cast his eyes to the ceiling. "Bill and I regarded it as historically problematic to take them... uh, anywhere, at the time... so they were very bored."

"And this was solved with knitting?" said Otilia incredulously.

"_Solved_ is probably too strong a word," Judy said. "But many of them got quite good at it. I believe most of the tourists always assumed the 'Jäger-knitted' labels were lies..."

Klaus smothered a laugh. Mechanicsburg was a mix of the authentically strange and tall tales told to outsiders, and tourists were usually wrong about which was which.

Barry grinned at him. "Mechanicsburg has some very strange marketing theorists, but they seem to be good at their jobs." He gestured to Dr. Beetle. "And I believe _we_, incidentally, have a treaty."

They did. Dr. Beetle was almost as cheerful about it as Barry. A section of one of the chalkboards turned out to hold the basics and town-specific terms of the agreement, fighting for elbow room against vaguely rhapsodic diagrams of Van Rijn's handiwork. Eventually, after it was drawn up properly and signed, Dr. Beetle informed them that he had letters to write - Klaus suspected they would be largely about Otilia - and Judy and Punch admitted having appointments in the afternoon, although Judy invited them to stop by Clay Mechanical later.

* * *

He and Barry stepped out of the laboratory and found themselves caught up at once in the noontide rush of university students hurrying out for lunch between lessons or experiments. It took him back rather abruptly, by more than twenty years, in a way that simply seeing Beetle's labs again hadn't. It was somehow unsurprising, too, that the press and scurry was so single-minded, very few people seemed to take immediate notice that they were jostling several Jägers and a Muse. Although the Jägers did start gathering a bit more space fairly quickly.

"Ah," said Barry, "this was the point at which we usually decided to go work for another hour until things settled down, wasn't it?"

Klaus snorted. "I don't know about 'usually', but you _were_ frequently trailing enough of a crowd to swamp a restaurant by itself."

"Okay, sometimes. We could always go someplace less convenient to the university, since I don't think any of us are in a hurry..." Barry looked up at Otilia. "Or do you want to go back to the school, or anything? You're welcome to join us, obviously, but if you aren't interested we'll go back to the outflier first."

"I'd rather return since I can't eat," she said. "Thank you for bringing me here," she added.

"Dr. Beetle was really the best choice we could think of," Barry said. "And, well, we did need to talk to him. Thank you for being patient about it." He looked abruptly sheepish. "And, um, about the tangling."

"You did sort my wings out eventually," said Otilia, sounding rather amused about it. "And my Creator would have been flattered by your assessments, although perhaps it's just as well he couldn't see them."

"Because we don't understand his work yet or to keep from overfeeding his ego?" Barry asked with a grin.

Otilia smiled back. "I was thinking of the second."

"It wouldn't just be ours. He's - you're all pretty much legendary at this point. I don't know how much chance you've had to notice."

"We were legendary from the start," said Otilia, sounding as if she felt this was something to regret. "He was already famous and he made it clear that he considered us his best work, indispensable and unique."

Barry shrugged, opening a hand. "As nobody's been able to match him since..."

"I didn't say his opinion of himself was wrong." She shook her wings out. "Just inconvenient. I suppose it was necessary, if we were to inspire we had to be noticed. But I expect my sisters are long gone as a result."

Barry winced at that. "I'm afraid you're right. I'm sorry."

Otilia's wings drooped and she lowered her head. "It's nothing I didn't expect. I will manage. I have work to do, after all."

Too many lost siblings all around, Klaus thought. It was a dim note on which to part from Otilia, but they hadn't left the airship very far away and even the lunchtime crowd of students could only prolong the trip so much.

When it lifted away with her, he exchanged a rueful look with Barry, who said, "Makes you feel like we should be questing for the other eight, doesn't it?"

"Well, we know where to find _two_," Klaus said grimly. He didn't really want to tell Otilia that Mawu and Liza - or what remained after various ham-handed attempts at study or reassembly - had been seized and preserved by the exasperated Master of Paris and constituted one of the most prized and closely guarded exhibits in the Louvre. If she didn't know, she'd probably find out eventually. "But if Voltaire hasn't tried putting them back together, I don't think he'll let us try it."

"He should give you a chance. If anybody can make sense of another Spark's work it's normally you." Barry grimaced. "But I don't know if I could talk him into it."

"I'm not sure I'm that much better than everyone who's tried over two centuries, but I wouldn't say no to the opportunity," said Klaus. "Especially if I did have a chance of getting Otilia her family back."

"I know," Barry said. Then, a little more brightly, "And honestly, you probably are. Not least because you'd actually ask her things and listen. Plus I imagine she'd let you look at her brain if she thought it would help."

"Now that's entirely too tempting a thought," said Klaus. "Come on, let's go and find somewhere to have lunch that isn't swamped with students."

"Food!" Agatha put in gleefully. "Can we go somewhere with cheese?"

"I'm not sure we could avoid it," Barry told her.

They found somewhere that did indeed do cheese - a restaurant they remembered fondly from their student days that was far enough from the university to have avoided the worst of the rush. The Jägers were getting nervous looks, but they were hungry too and hadn't actually done anything, and the restaurant proprietor didn't dare say anything when they followed Klaus and Barry into the restaurant.

She came over, looking uneasy, and Barry gave her one of his best sunny everything-is-perfectly-fine smiles. "Mistress Nicoletta," he said, and Klaus nearly did a double-take. She'd been _thirteen_ last time they visited together, but it was the same girl. "I remember when your mother brought you here in a basket. I didn't realise I'd been gone so long you had time to grow up and run the place yourself."

Nicoletta smiled back hesitantly, looking between the two of them and not quite able to focus for glancing at the Jägers. "Grandfather was getting tired and my father never did want to take it himself, so I got to be the apprentice for a while and now, well - ah, what would you like?"

"Ah-" Barry paused and glanced around the table. "Before any of the Jägers order, does Beetle still forbid restaurants from selling raw meat?"

She looked unsettled. "Uh, yes, I'm afraid so."

"Iz hokay, ve dun mind it cooked," said one of the Jägers, with a grin that was probably not going to make her less nervous.

At which point, much to Klaus's surprise, the pepper grinder on their table unfolded itself somehow and launched at the speaker's face in a flurry of blades, shedding a cloud of pepper from the mechanism. "Hoy!" The Jäger blocked it, despite a sneeze, but it started trying to grind his hand. Nicoletta took a step back in alarm; Barry grabbed at the pepper grinder and smashed it on the table, scattering peppercorns; and motion from the kitchen caught Klaus's eye.

"Down!" he bellowed, dragging Nicoletta out of the way as a _roasting jack_ hurtled at them from behind her, wielding its spit like a spear and dripping ham and partially toasted cheese along the way. Barry, looking incredulous, thrust Agatha under the table and told her to _stay_ there.

The Jägers, more prepared this time, jumped on the new attacker, taking down a table in the process. One of them drew a sword and wedged it into the clockwork while a couple held the struggling roasting jack down. One of the Jägers doing the holding was, Klaus noticed with some amusement, tearing off half cooked ham to eat with his free hand.

Barry looked around warily, in case anything else jumped them, and then joined the Jägers on the floor and disassembled the motor. "Nicoletta," he said when he stood up, eyes unusually steely, "What the _hell_?"

"I didn't know they were going to do that," she said, shakily, as Klaus let her out from under the edge of the table. She looked back under it for Agatha, but Agatha went the other way, looking grumpy. "I, I - Grandfather said once there were craftsmen in the towns that used to get raided a lot who could build almost anything to recognise a Jäger, but I didn't know we _had_ any."

The Jägers were sitting on the floor around the ham they'd apparently claimed as spoils of war. After a quick glance over to see Agatha emerging, wide-eyed but unhurt, from under the table they seemed fairly relaxed about the whole thing. One of them licked at a bleeding hand and then pulled a face and muttered about it tasting of pepper, but it didn't look like a serious injury and aside from that none of them were hurt.

"That's a hazard of bringing Jägers places I hadn't thought of," said Klaus in an undertone. "I'll have to take it into account in future."

"I hadn't either," Barry said sourly. "They exaggerate it a little, but they sound like _people from Mechanicsburg_, because they _are_."

Klaus winced. Mechanicsburg was a very insular place; it was quite rare for people from it to travel much let alone move away. But this was a university town, and one not that far from Mechanicsburg itself. Barry was probably lucky his own accent wasn't strong enough to set it off.

"I'm _sorry_," Nicoletta said miserably. She straightened and dusted pepper off her apron. "I - you'll all eat free today, of course, if you want to stay at all, and I-"

"Oh for God's sake-" Barry cut her off, then cut _himself_ off, and inhaled sharply. "I don't actually think it's your fault, and that's a fair offer, but trust me, a little more extravagant than I want to take you up on. Just..."

After Barry trailed off crossly into a brief, awkward silence, Nicoletta suggested, "Would you like to move to different tables?"

Barry closed his eyes. "Let's start with that. And get me a first aid kit."

"A lot of people with anti-Jäger things probably don't know what they've got," Klaus said, deliberately calmly, as they moved to another table. "Although using Spark creations without finding out what the extra bits do is risky enough in itself. Maybe we could pay some of the University students to help check, people would probably bring things for the reward of being told what extra functions their appliances have. It wouldn't help with the people who do know what they've got, though."

"Indeed." Barry glanced around at the Jägers. "_Do_ you want to stay and eat here?"

One of them was bringing the remains of the roasting jack. After a moment, he volunteered, "Iz goot ham," holding up a handful in illustration.

"What about you?" Klaus asked Agatha. "We didn't plan for your lunch to be this exciting."

Agatha made a face. "_I'm_ mad at her. They didn't do anything!"

"She didn't know what those things would do," Klaus told her. "At worst she's guilty of being foolish enough to use technology she didn't fully know the purpose of. Be angry with the people who made such imprecise weapons and left them looking like normal appliances."

"They _were_ her grandfather's, I think," Barry said with a sigh. "Probably in the family longer than that." The pepper, smeared ham, and broken table were being rapidly and quietly cleared away.

"Goot ting about staying here, Mistress," offered Dimo, "iz effryting else already heard us tokk. I vant to eat before ve haff any more fun."

Agatha looked a little doubtful about this definition of fun, but climbed into a new chair anyway. Then she appropriated the first aid kit and instructed the injured Jäger, "Give me your hand."

The Jäger knelt down by her chair and presented a bleeding and slightly peppery hand with some amusement.

The bandage probably wasn't strictly necessary, although the pepper grinder had done a surprising amount of damage. Barry peered over Agatha's shoulder, talking her through the process of correctly cleaning the injuries and finding a way to bandage them that wouldn't interfere unnecessarily with the use of the hand while it finished healing. Klaus was trying not to watch too overtly - this couldn't possibly fall under the heading of proprietary information, but it might annoy them if he were openly nosy - but he was fairly sure the cuts had shrunk measurably during the process.

Agatha secured the last bandage, quite deftly for a small child, and completed the treatment with a careful and rather maternal kiss.

The Jäger grinned up at Agatha, who managed to look totally unperturbed by the amount of teeth on display. "Thenk hyu, Mistress. Hyu done a goot job," he said, and then stood up and went to take his own chair.

They managed to order food with no further incident. Nicoletta waited on them herself as much as possible, although this might have been mainly to spare her unnerved employees. Seeing that Barry _wasn't_ cheerily trying to smooth things over, several of the Jägers apparently decided to fill in and assure Nicoletta there were no hard feelings by flirting outrageously with her.

Big smiles... unselfconscious enthusiasm... a certain intentional goofiness... Klaus suppressed the abrupt urge to laugh at the parallel with a large bite of bread.

He didn't tease Barry about it _much_, but he did manage to get an uncalculated smile before lunch was over. Dimo, somewhat astonishingly, managed to make a date for a late dinner with Nicoletta. (Apparently he had better manners than some of the student customers. Klaus and Barry looked at each other once and mutually decided not to ask.)

Barry remained mostly pensive, however, all the way back to the university, where Dr. Beetle hospitably offered them the use of a laboratory (the Jägers sensibly stationed themselves outside it) in which he was storing several projects with unsolved problems. "You're still brooding," Klaus said, after these had failed to cheer Barry up for several minutes.

Barry sighed a little explosively. "I suppose most of the people who made those really were from places that never heard a Mechanicsburg accent unless they were being raided."

"Mostly," said Klaus. "It's not as if you don't know your town's history, and Mechanicsburg has never encouraged people to regard it fondly. But that kind of reaction probably doesn't encourage them to regard the rest of the world with much fondness either."

"It's certainly not conducive to switching to any other type of relationship." Barry rolled his eyes. "I suppose not every town can be Sturmhalten... all right, that may be just as well..."

"God save us from more Sturmvorauses," Klaus muttered, rather unfairly. They revelled in politics as much as he loathed it, and it made it rather hard to see their good side. Even if Aaronev had been a sort of friend several years ago.

Barry's mouth twitched. "So, I should take that negotiation too, shouldn't I?"

"Please," said Klaus.

Barry grinned. Of all things to cheer him up. "If necessary I'll even let them propose more new architecture."

"I never did understand that bet." It didn't help that he'd heard the story of the Red Cathedral's origin from Jägers, who seemed to think no action too extreme in pursuit of making someone eat a hat.

"I'm not sure I can really explain."

"I really don't expect you to explain the things your ancestors did," said Klaus, amused in his turn.

"A lot of them make sense from a certain perspective," Barry said. "Granted, that is not necessarily a perspective I want to practice thinking in."

"It might help when it comes to dealing with the Castle," Klaus teased.

Barry snorted. "That doesn't explain _your_ talent for it."

"Are you implying I think like an evil overlord?"

"Here and there. Just a touch. You _did_ build a flying city from which to conquer Europe, you know. And then got me to go along with it." Klaus was briefly worried that this was the prelude to a more alarming bout of brooding, but the thoughtful look Barry gave him had a different tone to it. "I think you may be the only person in history to have decided to take over Europe on the grounds that it needed looking after."

"And why are _you_ helping?"

That got a smile. "You had a point."

Gratifying, but Klaus couldn't resist adding, "And you wanted me to do it your way."

"Are you really complaining?"

"No. Everything seems to be working nicely," Klaus said. He poked at a clock and the cuckoo inside it poked its head out and gave him a funny look. "Is there a working clock around here? We should probably be heading for Clay Mechanical soon."

Barry looked around the laboratory, which featured at least three stopped clocks and four that were moving at different rates, and produced a watch. "Quite right." He exercised his persuasive talents to part Agatha from the glockenspiel and retaliated for Klaus's suppressed amusement by handing her to him. Klaus failed to dodge and found himself thinking of his daughter for the entire walk. He couldn't decide if he was relieved or reluctant to transfer Agatha to a smiling Punch when they arrived.

"We've been discussing your invitation," Judy said, leading them into a lovingly kept kitchen. Klaus's first thought was that it was a pleasant place, his second that the care put into it might reflect a desire to stay, his third that Judy and Punch used to set _campsites_ with similar pride and affection, and his fourth _Why in the world do they have that many canned goods? They wouldn't prepare for a siege with glass jars..._ Barry, who hadn't been in on that part of the conversation, interrupted his musings with a questioning noise. Judy added, "To teach at his school."

"Oh, of course. He mentioned wanting to ask, I just didn't know he had."

"Mm." She brought tea and settled at the table with them. "There is a... little problem with leaving."

Klaus quirked an eyebrow at her. "A problem?" He'd thought they might not want to leave, he hadn't thought there would be anything they couldn't leave.

She exhaled, looking troubled. Klaus exchanged a glance with Barry and felt they had probably both identified the mannerisms as belonging to secondhand embarrassment, a reluctance to discuss other people's problems. A delicacy to which Barry had always been largely immune, but his creations weren't. "Some - _many_ of our friends here," Judy began, confirming the impression, "are likewise constructs who came to Beetleburg to be less remarkable." Or remarked on. "And safer. That doesn't necessarily make it easy for them to make a living, although Dr. Beetle does hire some in inconspicuous positions. We've been... helping. It's not that they can't manage their lives without us, but..."

Klaus glanced at the jars and jars of preserves. That wasn't the kind of help offered to people who could get by without you, that meant a lot of them probably didn't know where their next meal was coming from. "Constructs that look too strange to be hired," he said, considering. Castle Wulfenbach was already home to quite a high proportion of constructs (about to get higher once the Jägers were on board) compared to the general population. "Is it just appearance?" He realised pretty much immediately he could have phrased that better.

"Just?" Judy gave him a wry look, but she did know him. "Not in all cases, but..." A brief pause and her gaze turned thoughtful. "Nobody you wouldn't have invited to Wulfenbach, once."

"That hasn't changed. Castle Wulfenbach is just more mobile now," Klaus answered. "Also still under construction and hiring everything from construction workers to secretaries."

Her expression lightened. "I'm not sure how much time you have for interviews..."

"If you're vouching for them, I'm willing to extend the offer to come now and sort out who's doing what later."

A smile bloomed on Judy's face. "We'll talk to them. We might have to ask you back for introductions at some point, though. We're vouching for _you_, too, but they haven't known us as long."

"We wouldn't expect you to pack up and leave overnight even if it was just you," Klaus assured her. "Assuming you do want to come, with that problem solved. I won't rescind the offer to your friends either way."

"I didn't think you would." She smiled at both of them. "And I do think we'll come. We've made a good life here, by any measure, and yet..." She sipped her tea, considering. "You've always been hard to say no to, really."

"Me?" Klaus asked, looking at Barry. But Barry had actually been remarkably quiet so far. Klaus was used to the Heterodyne Boys being the persuasive ones, though.

Barry looked amused. "Should I comment on your talking me into things lately or just point out that she likes you?"

"All right," said Klaus, still a little startled and oddly flattered. He'd been thinking of himself as someone who had to force people into things - until Barry had arrived to do the persuading. Maybe he didn't need to carry a big stick quite as much as he'd felt like he had. "Do you want to set a date for when you'll be ready?" he added to Judy. "Or send a message to us when you are?"

She opened her mouth, then closed it, eyebrows drawing together in an oddly puzzled expression. "I know exactly how fast we could leave if we had to, under a few different conditions of emergency," she said, "but I'm honestly not sure how long it will take _normally_." A wry glance at Barry. "Even though we did it once."

"Well," Barry said reasonably, "Mechanicsburg was different. More travel preparations and less recruiting."

"Send a message then," said Klaus. "I've set it up so we get mail pretty reliably wherever we are, and Beetle's going to have a way to be in touch."

"We'll do that." They'd mostly finished the tea by this point, even lingering, and Judy stood up. "For now, let's go tell Adam."


	10. Castle Heterodyne Attempts Matchmaking

Barry turned a corner and paused midstep. Granted, he had been away for a while, but he knew the streets of Mechanicsburg rather well. In fact, he'd been on this very street this morning, and it had continued past the Sphere Gears shop then.

"Castle," he said, "_again_?" Its matchmaking efforts over the past several weeks had taken the form of arranging the town streets into a maze (which really took remarkably little modification) to direct attractive female tourists to him. He must have missed the underfoot rumbles while he was in the factory.

"If you'd be a little more co-operative this wouldn't be necessary," the Castle replied.

"It isn't necessary now," Barry said testily. "And in case you didn't notice, I am _working_."

"You could always take her with you."

This gave him pause. The factories were hardly as secret as some of the Castle's critical workings, considering their products were actually for sale, but most of them weren't tourist destinations either. "I'm not sure whether to conclude you really like this one or are trying to get her in trouble."

"Perhaps I'm interested to see how she reacts," said the Castle enigmatically.

"Uh-huh," Barry said. He could probably get away if he really tried. Demand the Castle let him (although he wasn't really sure that would work), duck into a shop and ask to leave through the back, climb _over_ a shop. But then he'd feel guilty about leaving some innocent to the Castle's dubious guidance. "Fine," he said, turning back toward the intersection. "Where is- oh." Probably the pretty stranger glancing around like she was looking for somebody. She spotted him, looked twice, and then put her shoulders back and started toward him.

"See," said the Castle. "Old enough you won't complain that she's the wrong generation, probably still fertile, very pretty, good hips..."

Barry was _trying_ not to react to the Castle's commentary, but when the woman's step faltered and her eyes widened, he realised it must have chosen to let her hear that too. He rubbed a hand over his own eyes, feeling himself blush. Was that what it had wanted to see her reaction to? "I am so sorry about that," he said.

She looked down for a moment, mouth working as if she were fighting a smile, and he could just see the blood rising in her cheeks under warm brown skin. "It was pretty straightforward about the whole thing," she admitted. "I hadn't expected a chance to meet you when I came here, but I could hardly turn one down." The smile broke loose. "And I have an aunt who tells me I've wasted my youth, so I sort of appreciated the compliment."

Barry was startled into laughter at that. "Well, I appreciate your being a good sport about it."

"...And she looked like she wanted to take one of the torchmen apart," the Castle concluded.

"What?" Barry looked past her down the street in alarm, as if he might have somehow missed an ongoing crisis. "Why was one of the torchmen even _active_?"

The tourist looked more embarrassed than she had over the Castle's evaluation. "It wasn't. It just looked like it could be. And I was just _looking_, really!"

"I could activate one," said the Castle, in the sly tone that meant it knew Barry was about to order it not to and was even angling for it.

"I don't think you actually _want_ her to take one apart," Barry shot back. He regarded her with somewhat greater interest. "Think you could?"

She wrinkled her nose. "At least my hair is tied back, but I'd want more protective gear to take apart a clank if it was actually on fire."

"Fair enough." It was pretty hair. Glossy black. God help him, he was thinking about going along with Castle Heterodyne's attempt to get him a date. "Ah, I should've asked. What's your name?"

"Donna DuLac."

Family from France and India then, probably. And he couldn't quite resist asking, "Lady of the Lake?"

She grinned. "My mother hoped I would be a swordsmith."

"Are you?" He glanced at her hands and wrists, the musculature and the signs of long-healed burns. She might well work at a forge.

"Among other things, yes."

"Why don't you show her the factories," the Castle suggested, innocently. "After all, you are working."

Barry eyed the nearest wall dubiously.

Donna asked politely, "I've interrupted? I can go-" She paused at the sort of grinding noise that frequently preceded the Castle deciding to move a building, and looked warily over her shoulder. "I think."

His lack of confidence in Castle Heterodyne's matchmaking abilities was no reason to be rude to her. Glaring at the walls when it suggested they spend time together probably qualified. "I'm sorry, it's... supervised the past thirty generations of Heterodynes, so to speak, so you can probably imagine on a historical basis why I find its attempts to introduce me to women a little alarming. But you seem very nice and," a smile, "it is right about your being pretty. Would you _want_ to see the factories?"

Her eyes lit up. "Wouldn't I! What are you working on?"

"Defense systems for our allies." It was a fairly significant factor in a number of the treaties. "A lot of what Klaus and I are trying to do is make Europe a safer place to live, and Mechanicsburg has actually been exporting military clanks and traps for centuries-"

Donna raised her eyebrows. "That long? Wasn't that a bit counterproductive back when it was raiding?" She paused. "Or, maybe not, but if your armies knew all the weak points, I wouldn't expect a lot of repeat customers." She grimaced. "Am I being rude?"

"How? I'm the one who brought up the family history." Barry snorted. "Anyway, there were definitely some complications, but since I don't plan to resume raiding people, that should eliminate a few. I was on my way to the kraken works, if you have any interest in mechanical squid."

There was another grinding noise and the roads slid back into their normal places with a slightly smug air.

"-And now it will be much easier to get there," Barry finished, gesturing back in the direction he'd intended to go in the first place.

Donna stared down the street. "Your town actually blocked you in to get you to talk to me?"

Barry rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, I wasn't avoiding you _personally_, but... yes?"

Her mouth twitched. "And you're still doing it?"

He grinned. "So far. Kraken?"

"Why not?"

* * *

It turned out the kraken works had misplaced a few of the burrowing squid when the Castle was moving things around, which made the visit a little more exciting than planned. Still, reworking them was a pleasant few hours, and Barry had quite lost track of anything else until Donna started slightly at the sound of the clock striking four.

"I am actually supposed to meet some people," she said, pushing her goggles back. "How likely is it I can get back to the inn and across town in an hour?"

"Reasonably good, I think. Castle," said Barry. "Leave the streets where they belong and don't interfere."

"Invalid instruction," said the Castle smugly.

Barry paused. "Or not so good. Castle, _what_?"

"I can move the streets or leave them where they are, but I cannot leave them where they belong."

_Oh, for-_ "Why are the streets out of place now?"

"Klaus came to visit," said the Castle. "I explained you were on a date, but he was not at all reasonable. I had to make some buildings quite a bit taller before he would stop climbing over them."

Barry considered dropping his face into his hands, but they were covered in grease (and possibly ink) and he wasn't sure he wanted to give the Castle the satisfaction. "Put the streets - and buildings - back where they belong, without trapping or injuring anyone, and _then_ leave them there. And you know, Donna might have liked to meet him too."

"Probably not right _now_, though," murmured Donna, her expression caught somewhere between horror and humour.

"Well, it's hardly your fault," Barry said, "but perhaps not the best timing. You go find your friend, I'll go placate mine."

"Everything is where it usually is," the Castle told him after a few minutes. "Klaus is waiting for you at the Castle itself."

"Thanks." After showing Donna out of the factory, he took the fastest route back to the Castle. He found Klaus in the green drawing room (had the Castle picked that knowing he missed Zantabraxus?), looking decidedly sour. "I'm sorry," said Barry, before he was all the way through the door. "I didn't know it was blocking you."

"Apparently dating takes priority over politics," said Klaus, glaring at a wall.

"Politics is just a way of assuring there is something to give to future generations. But future generations are _required_ for that," said the Castle. "We have no guarantee the Lady Agatha will survive her breakthrough, and I would sooner not risk all on a single throw of the dice."

"Thank you for that... morbid moment." Barry rubbed his forehead. "And seriously, don't do that again. Klaus, I am sorry about that. And glad to see you. What's the political matter?"

"Aaronev wants to make terms," said Klaus, still looking irritated but with a different focus now. "Very favourable ones. Including outright offering his son as a hostage for his good behaviour. An offer which doesn't seem likely to offer the poor boy a long life if taken literally."

"Well, we knew the Fifty Families would be interested once word got around about Otilia." There were many aspects to the Storm King's history and legend that appealed to different parties. That he had been one of the last royals for whom Sparks had stayed mostly subordinate - _aside_ from the Heterodynes, who were less of an embarrassment due to having ruled nearly as long as the Habsburgs - was part of the fascination for the current ones.

"I know," said Klaus. "But Aaronev? I might have believed he'd roll over for a show of force, or that you could talk him around, but this... I don't like it."

"It is odd," Barry agreed. "But he _is_ practically next door. I suppose he may have decided he'd hear from us before long and would rather make the first move. And let's be fair, he does take pretty good care of Sturmhalten."

"I know. He was always Lucrezia's slave and that bothers me. He can hardly be blamed for anything she did - I have no idea how he'd react to _finding out_ what she did - but it makes me uneasy now." Klaus sighed. "I suppose I shouldn't complain about getting what I wanted too easily."

"No, but you can raise an eyebrow about being offered it by somebody you don't trust," Barry said. "Although I must say, I never found infatuation with Lucrezia to reflect _that_ badly on a man's character."

Klaus shot him an irritated look and then chuckled. "Fair enough," he admitted. "Perhaps we should go and visit, though. Accept his terms in person. And have a look around when we do."

"That does sound like a good idea. Lucrezia aside, the Sturmvorauses have always borne watching. They pride themselves on it." A swift grin. "And that's when we're getting along."

"When are you likely to be free to come?" Klaus asked. "Assuming the Castle will let you leave while your date is still in town."

Barry would have protested, except he wasn't entirely sure that _was_ a safe assumption. "I need four days, I think," he said after a moment to calculate. "If I'm going to retool the factories so they can get started on the new designs. Two and a half if you have the time to stay and help." A sudden, mischievous look. "Might get it under two, if Donna decides it's an improvement on her original plans, but I should probably make sure she isn't secretly planning an attack or anything first."

"I did look for someone who shares your ridiculous worldview," said the Castle.

Barry blinked. "You did?" That was unexpected. "And just how much of an interview did you conduct, anyway?"

"I listened in on her for a while before we spoke," said the Castle.

"It's a wonder you have any tourists," muttered Klaus.

"I often think so myself." Unwillingly fascinated, Barry added, "I'm not sure whether I'm more confused that you determined this based on casual conversation, or that you were _trying_."

"She came here because she admires what you did in the past," the Castle told him. "Which was not that hard to find out. And if she shares your perspective she's less likely to kill you."

Barry paused. "I - all right, that does actually make sense." And from Castle Heterodyne's admittedly unsettling perspective, his mother and Lucrezia might look more similar than he'd previously considered.

"And this new approach seems to have improved its matchmaking technique enough it's found someone you want to spend time with," said Klaus, raising an eyebrow.

"Apparently," Barry said, bemused. "It's been steering tourists in my direction for weeks, but..."

Klaus rather poorly hid a chuckle at that. "Maybe it was just a matter of probability then. Or testing. I'll look forward to meeting her and promise not to hold the Castle's antics against her."

"I'm sure she'll appreciate that."

* * *

Klaus couldn't exactly say he was in a tearing hurry to talk to Aaronev, but he _was_ interested both in the mechanical squid and, however exasperating it had made his afternoon, in the astonishing spectacle of Barry allowing Castle Heterodyne to matchmake for him. Naturally he agreed to help retool the squid factory.

At dawn the next morning, he joined Barry, who said, 'You're early. I was going to go meet Donna at the inn first and meet you at the factory.'

"I thought I'd walk over with you." Klaus grinned at him. "I'm curious."

"You're impatient," Barry said, laughing. "It would only have made a few minutes' difference. Come on, then."

"She decided this was a good way to spend her holiday, then?" Not that this was exactly a surprise. Very few Sparks would pass up the chance at a day or so in a Mechanicsburg factory, and very few people in general - none of whom were likely to make a point of touring Mechanicsburg - would pass up the chance at a day spent with Barry Heterodyne. "Did you have a good time inviting her?"

"She had plans for the evening, Klaus," Barry said in tones of mock reproof. "I had the Castle ask her."

Klaus blinked. "You let Castle Heterodyne relay a message to someone you want to see again?"

"Very funny. ...If it's actually trying to be encouraging, it can co-operate." Barry did sound a little worried, though. "If it said anything else appalling to her-"

"What did it say yesterday?" Castle Heterodyne had a wide repertoire of appalling.

"It evaluated her age and hips," Barry said, "in her hearing. Fortunately I think she believes I didn't put it up to this."

Klaus managed to stop laughing before they reached the inn, where it turned out Donna had not been deceived, misrepresented, or imprisoned in some sort of improvised labyrinth for the Castle's notion of Barry's convenience. She was discussing the day's plan animatedly with her travel companions, who ranged from equally excited to insisting it wasn't actually possible.

She had a lot of travel companions. At this early hour, they were the only customers in the inn's common room, and despite filling three tables they were clearly either all together or had made friends rather quickly. Barry started toward them and said, "Good morning, Donna. A lot of early risers, aren't you?" and all of them, predictably, lit up.

Klaus identified Donna initially because she was the one who jumped up and at whom Barry smiled the most warmly. "Everyone wanted to meet you," she said. "I'm not sure half of them _believed_ me until I thought to ask the Castle to speak so they could hear it..."

"I'm not sure that should have been convincing," Barry said wryly, "but I've strictly forbidden it to prank the tourists."

"Guiding them to you doesn't count?" asked an older woman with twinkling eyes. "Or is that pranking you? Either way, we're honoured to meet you."

Donna took this as her cue to introduce everyone, starting with her great-aunt and proceeding through two sisters; a brother and sister-in-law; another sister-in-law whose husband hated to travel and had stayed home; an aunt and uncle from the opposite side of the family from the previous aunt; three cousins of varying degree on both sides, one of whom was male and travelling with his wife; and a half-dozen friends of these assorted relatives. Klaus was a little intrigued. Of course travel was generally considered safer in large groups, despite his recent efforts at getting main routes cleaned up, and probably always would be - but this eclectic selection of friends and relations struck him as unusual, and more so in that Donna seemed to be the only Spark of the lot but was neither alarming the rest of the party nor turning them into an entourage.

"And this is my friend Klaus Wulfenbach," Barry said, once everyone else had been identified.

"Oh." Donna sounded rather startled. "Herr Baron."

"Miss DuLac," Klaus returned, a little drily. "-Klaus, please. This is not a state occasion." Spending the day collaborating with Barry and his new girlfriend was one thing. Doing so while on unreasonably formal terms with said girlfriend was just ridiculous.

"Klaus," Donna repeated, sounding not entirely comfortable about it.

"It's been a pleasure meeting you all," Barry was saying to the rest of the party, "but we do have a lot to get done. I hope you won't begrudge my depriving you of Donna's company for a day or two of your trip." (Klaus rather thought that on balance they'd be more likely to envy Donna.)

"Are you joking?" asked the great-aunt. "She spent all evening talking about her afternoon with you. It was obviously good for her." She regarded Donna with obvious affection before smiling at Barry again. "Now get you gone with her, before she decides the table knives need reforging."

"I would not-!" Donna began indignantly, then stopped and sighed.

Barry laughed. "All right, then. And perhaps you could all join us for dinner."

"We would, again, be honoured. But are you likely to stop and have it before midnight?" Clearly, Donna's relatives had enough experience of Sparks to recognise a pattern.

"I'll remind them," said the Castle, sounding sufficiently pleased with itself to make Barry look slightly worried.

They settled on eight o'clock, enough time for a long workday without being ridiculously late, and set out for the factory. After a few moments of small talk that was rather more stilted than anybody had hoped, Donna said to Klaus, "I am sorry about yesterday."

He looked at her blankly before realising what she meant and then burst out laughing. "You really shouldn't apologise for Castle Heterodyne's behaviour. If you start, it may never end. I only occasionally hold Barry responsible for it."

"Yesterday, admittedly, being one such occasion," Barry said. "But it certainly wasn't your fault. Is that what's been bothering you?"

She made a face. "Sorry. This is a little overwhelming." She glanced at Klaus. "You've been running my home town for about a year now."

"It sounded like you were fine yesterday," said Klaus. "Don't tell me you can manage a date with Barry Heterodyne and take the Castle's commentary with aplomb, and _I_ overwhelm you." At her slightly sheepish look, he added, "Would it help to think 'goofy sidekick' instead of 'conquering tyrant'?"

That surprised her into laughter. "I'm not sure, but your suggesting it does." A wry look. "I wasn't exactly thinking 'conquering tyrant' either. I'm from Jibou. We have a fair number of Sparks, but my swords are about as practically military as we get. We weren't prepared to mount the kind of defence we've needed the past several years."

"A lot of people weren't," Barry said rather grimly.

"So we were mostly relieved when you came back," Donna finished. "Even if we had to leave my great-uncle out of the agreement."

The awkwardness was mainly gratitude, then, not resentment. Some days it was all too easy to forget the areas that had actually been glad to see him _before_ Barry showed up... which wasn't really fair to anyone involved. "Relatively speaking, you weren't doing that badly on your own," Klaus said. "Were the portable walls your making?"

"Yes, actually..."

"I've been trying to adapt those for air-dropping."

Barry blinked. "Wouldn't they fall over if you don't drop them somewhere perfectly level? You can't adjust the base to the terrain. Or is that the adaptation?"

"Frankly, that was always a problem." Donna frowned. "Bracing them would be even harder if you're going to drop them. Or are you making the base sharp, and dropping it _into_ the ground?"

"Maybe some of the time." Klaus made a mental note to try that. "But the bracing is solvable."

The introduction of a technical problem improved the conversation substantially, which was encouraging, and on arriving at the kraken works they shifted smoothly enough to discussing the plans for the squid clanks and how the factory would implement them without Barry's direct involvement. (One of the things Klaus liked about Mechanicsburg - and was busily trying to duplicate - was the frequency with which they managed this.)

Later in the day, while they rebuilt and Barry directed gleeful workers and Klaus sketched revisions and Donna decided to forge and grind a sample blade for the squid's drilling attachment, they eventually drifted back to the possibility of dropwalls, which involved quizzing Donna on the implementation of the groundbound version and shouting over the sound of their tools when necessary. After the fifth different cousin who came up, Barry said, "It's starting to sound like you're related to the entire town. How many relatives do you _have_?"

Donna started laughing. "I'd have to think about that. Do you want just the ones in Jibou or the branches back in India or France? Blood relatives only or in-laws and cousins-of-cousins?" She adjusted her goggles and moved to the blade grinder. "I don't know that it's really that many objectively speaking, but we do try to keep track of each other."

"You're certainly spread out," Barry said, sounding - to Klaus's amusement - a little dazed.

"Six of my eight great-grandparents had wanderlust," Donna said cheerfully, "and a seventh had a father who sent every Spark in the family out to find or found or conquer their own new homes." A pause. "It didn't go well for most of them. But one met a pretty blacksmith's daughter in Jibou and apprenticed himself to her father."

"Wise of him," Klaus said. "And you inherited both the Spark and the sense to make yourself useful to your neighbours?"

"Oh, the Spark skipped a couple of generations before it got to me," Donna said. "We're not as consistent about it as the Heterodynes. In the past few generations I guess it's maybe... one out of five or seven of us? Depending on how you count."

"You have enough siblings and cousins to have statistics?" Barry asked.

She shrugged. "Well, we're also a bit more prolific than the Heterodynes, apparently-"

The Castle made an interested noise.

"-I don't know about your mother's family."

Silence fell and Klaus tried not to glance uneasily at the walls. Nobody _talked_ about Bill and Barry's mother much in Mechanicsburg, and when one of them mentioned her there had always tended to be an air of challenge to it. Donna went still for a moment, herself, and then Barry said, "I'm afraid I don't know much about them either. It always seemed a little awkward to approach them, but maybe I should find out."

"Maybe." Donna dropped the subject and focussed on her work for a while before breaking into the conversation again with the now-quenched blade. "Here - it could be better with a less accelerated tempering process, but this should give you the idea."

It was a lovely blade, actually, with curves and angles ideal for the spinning attachment, but it was astonishingly thin. There was a different kind of awkward pause before Barry said, "It looks amazing, but it might be a little delicate for a _burrowing_ squid."

Donna blinked at him. "I didn't _forget_ it had to go through earth and rock," she said. The irritation in her voice was strong enough to set off alarms anywhere else - she sounded like a _challenged_ Spark now - and because it was Mechanicsburg, everyone in the room looked up with mildly eager interest. Donna flicked the blade downward with the tongs, and it disappeared into the floor at Barry's feet.

Barry stepped back, looking more startled by the small slit in the floor than he had by her throwing a blade in his general direction. "Okay," he said, sounding understandably impressed. There was a small cheer from other quarters of the kraken works. "Point taken."

"Not by _you_," said Castle Heterodyne.

Donna looked abruptly sheepish. "Ah, sorry. I didn't think of you feeling that."

"I am not hurt." The Castle sounded amused. "But how did you intend to get it back?"

"Aah... I didn't really think of that either." She cleared her throat. "Can you get it out? Gently? And if so, would you please?"

"It probably can," Barry said, kneeling down. "And if not, it won't hurt it to take the floor apart any more than it does the machinery."

"I can give it back," said the Castle. "But I want more of these. They needn't all be attached to the mechanical squid, either." The floor vibrated, and the blade rose halfway out of it.

Barry tapped it with a finger, evidently found it sufficiently cooled to touch, and pulled it the rest of the way free. "This could be _better_?"

"I rushed the example. This one will dull fairly quickly, but I can recommend a process that should keep them in service for years."

Barry smiled at her and she smiled back as inevitably as the moon reflected light. "Then by all means," he said, "tell us what to do with the blademaking section."

"So," said the Castle, as Donna started toward the tempering ovens, "if you should have the average number of children for your family, how many would that be? Roughly?"

"Ah-" She glanced at Barry, who covered his eyes a little overdramatically, and turned away from him with a hand clamped over her mouth. "I'm off to a bit of a late start, I'm afraid," she said, when she'd composed herself again. "So I doubt it would be more than four."

"Now I'm not sure whether to apologise for the Castle or ask you to stop teasing it," said Barry, trying not to laugh as well.

"No need to apologise. I have relatives like that."

There was a somewhat bewildered pause, this time, before Klaus asked what everybody had to be thinking. "You have relatives like Castle Heterodyne?"

"Well, not in the sense of animating a building," Donna said. "But old warlords who think their descendents should be out conquering something, and any _number_ who are intensely interested in my love life..."

Barry paused and asked cautiously, "Are any of them in your current travel party?"

Donna grinned. "Not the really pushy ones."

"And how would _they_ feel about your marrying into the Heterodynes?" the Castle purred.

"Do you _really_ have to ask?"

"You'd better not invite them here until you've had a chance to get to know each other without them," Klaus said, thoroughly entertained by this point. "I think the Castle provides about all the encouragement Barry can handle."

After two days - right on schedule - they were wrapping up the retooling of the factory and preparing to leave for Sturmhalten, and somewhat to Castle Heterodyne's disappointment Barry was so far not engaged.

He _was_, however, interested enough to arrange to see Donna again even though her visit was also about to end. They had just agreed to write (Donna had in fact also agreed along the way to exchange letters with Klaus and Adam on a more professional basis, so she was going to be a rather busy correspondent) when Barry added, "You know, you should come back to trade at the Vermin Fair."

Donna blinked at him. "The _what_?"

"Mechanicsburg has a very peculiar relationship with its rats, mice, and spiders," said Klaus.

"Some of the spiders. And pigeons. And - the point is, by now a lot of them use tools and are smart enough to trade," Barry explained.

Donna regarded them both skeptically. "They trade."

"We keep them supplied and armed, they keep the town mostly free of, ah, normal vermin. They're more hygienic than the unaltered wild-types. And the spiders, well, we never did get the mulberries established but Mechanicsburg doesn't have to import silk from China."

"Really." Donna was still looking between them dubiously. "What do they trade _for_?"

"Among other things," Barry said, "cutlery. They're smart enough to appreciate your knives."

"That doesn't take much," Donna said, then shook her head. "I am not sure you aren't pulling my leg but I don't think there's anybody I could ask who wouldn't play along, so I will too. Send me suggested measurements and I'll come."

Barry grinned at her. "You won't be sorry."

Donna smiled and only said, "No, I don't think I will."

After they parted, Klaus shook his head. "I'm amazed we're actually done, with all your antics."

"You like her," Barry said, sounding happy and about halfway to a question.

"You don't need _my_ opinion!" Klaus laughed and clapped Barry on the shoulder. "But maybe you should try meeting up with her _outside_ Mechanicsburg."


	11. In Which Tarvek Finally Shows Up

"Tarvek." His father rested a hand on Tarvek's shoulder. "This is very important."

They were waiting for the Heterodyne and the usurper Baron Wulfenbach. He could hardly forget it was important. Tarvek only said, "Yes, Father."

"We have a long and, shall we say, storied history with the Heterodynes. You must win over the Mistress's daughter. Reveal nothing and-" He fell silent as their guests came into sight. Walking, for some reason, though they did walk surrounded by Jägers. The little girl was barely visible among all the legs. She was probably why they were running a little late.

"Wilhelm." Barry Heterodyne - it was _odd_ thinking of him as the person from all the stories, especially without the other Heterodyne Boy, Tarvek decided - came smiling up the steps to shake Prince Aaronev's hand. Putting things on a more informal footing even though this was Prince Aaronev's city. Well, they'd been at university together and he _was_ a Heterodyne. Baron Wulfenbach offered a more formal but shallow bow, and his father returned a nod. Anevka curtsied gracefully. The Lord Heterodyne continued, "It's been a while. We were surprised to get your letter." A sweeping gesture, smile falling away at the right moment. "I'm glad to see Sturmhalten survived the wars so well."

"We were most fortunate," his father said gravely. Fortune had had nothing to do with it. "And of course I wrote to you. I am fascinated by your plans. The benefits to Europa could be immense."

Tarvek glanced at Agatha, still surrounded by people's legs, and offered a bow of his own. "Pleased to meet you," he said, pitching his voice quietly so he wouldn't be interrupting the adults. "I'm Tarvek."

Agatha smiled brightly back at him. (The nearest Jägermonster looked down and gave them both a rather fangy grin.) "I'm Agatha!" Her voice wasn't quite as soft. "Uncle Barry says you'll be coming to the school. It's great, I think you'll really like it."

Winning her over didn't look as if it would be difficult, precisely, although if she was this friendly to everyone then simply being another friend of hers might not be enough to please his father. "I'm sure I shall," he answered. Then, eagerly, because he couldn't help asking, "Is it true you have a Muse teaching you?"

"Madame Otilia," Agatha agreed. "She's very stern but she's been lots happier since Uncle Barry and Baron Wulfenbach put her back in the right body."

Tarvek had a moment of wondering why, and how, a Muse would be in the wrong body. Then a slightly longer moment of internal panic and forcing himself not to look up at his father to see if he'd heard that. Not that Tarvek knew the details, but he'd heard consciousness transfer devices being mentioned recently, and in the context of making sure the Baron didn't know about them. "How did she wind up in the wrong one?" he asked, finally, between really wanting to know and wanting to know what Agatha knew.

Agatha looked uncomfortable. "Well... my mother, um..." She looked up at the Lord Heterodyne and bit her lip. Tarvek couldn't think of a way to get her _not_ to involve the adults, and it was too late, they'd paused in their own conversation now anyway. "Used to be a villain?"

"Lucrezia transferred Otilia's mind into the body of a new construct," said the Lord Heterodyne. "I'm afraid Bill and I didn't know about that, when we first met the new nurse. Fortunately, she was otherwise mostly intact."

"Truly remarkable," Tarvek's father murmured.

"I look forward to meeting her," said Tarvek. He glanced at the still watching adults. "Perhaps I could go ahead?" He wasn't sure whether, if he was going to talk to Agatha about mind transfer, he should do it where his father could hear what she knew. But his father might also want to talk to Barry Heterodyne and the Baron without being interrupted, and Tarvek could write to him later.

The Baron raised an eyebrow. Tarvek thought he caught a slightly doubtful glance at his father, but it was too fast to be sure. "I don't see why not."

His father did not look _completely_ pleased, but he didn't give Tarvek any warning signals, so perhaps that was only for their guests' benefit somehow. He crouched down and set both hands on Tarvek's shoulders, looking earnestly into his face. "I'll have your things sent up." Tarvek swallowed. Last time he'd seen his luggage, his pet Andy had been draped across it looking hopeful. He wanted to remind his father that he'd asked to have the midmoth returned to Tweedle, if he couldn't take it to Castle Wulfenbach, but he couldn't say that now. "Behave yourself as befits a prince of Sturmhalten. Learn all you can."

"Jorgi," said the Lord Heterodyne. "Would you mind taking him there?"

"Bye!" Agatha added. "I'll see you when I get back!"

He'd sort of assumed Agatha would be sent along with him since she attended the school too, but he'd have plenty of time to talk to her later. "I'll see you," he answered, smiling at her.

He could briefly hear the adults introducing the two girls and then drifting back into politics and empire. Although he couldn't hear any of it very well, because the Jägermonster charged with accompanying him - Jorgi, apparently - talked constantly, cheerily, and familiarly.

They took a short ride on a small, swift airship up to the looming bulk of Castle Wulfenbach, and Jorgi walked him to the school.

Where a _real Muse_ opened the door. Tarvek gazed up at her, still hardly able to believe it, and nearly missed his cue when Jorgi introduced him. He bowed a little hastily. "Madame Otilia. It's an honour to meet you."

"Master Tarvek." She _smiled_ at him. "An honour and pleasure to meet you." She really sounded like she meant it. How had van Rijn made her able to sound so sincere? "I was told you would be joining our school."

"I've read so very much about you." The Muse of Protection. She was _glorious_.

The smile was fainter this time, more formal, but it still felt weirdly real. "My sisters and I were aware of our fame."

"You're amazing," he said. Blurted. It wasn't a properly calculated compliment at all. He could hardly think - no, he could, he was, but it was mostly awe and analytical appreciation, and details like circumspection and breathing were getting a little lost.

"I'm afraid the Sparks here are not allowed to study me, since being taken apart is not conducive to being able to teach them," she said, and her tone was still soft but...was that sarcasm? Bitterness?

"I wouldn't want to do that," he said earnestly. Well, he'd like to see how she worked, but the idea of breaking her the way so many of them had been lost was horrible. "I want to find all of you and put them back together." And oh, no. He'd never said that to _anybody_, even Violetta. He _had_ got too carried away. It was dangerous to tell people what you really wanted.

Her smile softened and she rested a hand on his head, cool metal fingers ruffling his hair for a moment. "Perhaps I could make an exception, then," she said gently. "For now, let me introduce you to the rest of the class."

Tarvek swallowed and nodded. That felt... nice. And an exception? Really? Did that mean what it sounded like? "Yes, Madame." He had better pull himself together for this. It should be all right, he told himself. Even adults were likely to have a slight lapse over a Muse now and then.

The other students all gave Otilia their undivided attention when she turned to them, which was only natural, and then converged on Tarvek once he'd been announced to them. It was a really remarkable collection, with hostage children from nearly all the top families within Baron Wulfenbach's rapidly expanding area of influence and a few students from shockingly farther afield, like the Iron Sheik's son. If Baron Wulfenbach and the Lord Heterodyne kept on as they had begun, this would be the best possible place to form connections and figure out what his own generation would be doing. Lucrezia Mongfish's own nephew Theo DuMedd seemed to reign supreme - that might be because Agatha was away, but he _was_ all of twelve, openly bright, and presented himself as personable and utterly relaxed. Tarvek covertly studied how he did it, but nearly gave up in shock when Theo suggested sneaking into the laboratory early over lunch.

"I'm surprised you're at school this far from home," he found himself saying to the Sheik's son Z, after considerable thought. What he _wanted_ to know was whether Z was there as a hostage or if the Iron Sheik had an eye on the potential to watch the ruling families of Europe.

Z grinned easily. "The Baron is an old friend of the family. My father thinks the experience will be good for me."

"The Baron has created an excellent school." The curly-haired girl sounded stiff about it, as if she was quoting. "And, of course, a Muse as a teacher-"

"That's very impressive," Tarvek agreed, trying to fit her to any of the portraits he'd been instructed to memorise. "Ah, you must be Princess Zulenna."

She raised her eyebrows, looking pleased and as if she didn't want to be surprised that he had identified her. "Of Holfung-Borzoi," she said. "The Lord Heterodyne invited us to ally. He and his brother built defences for my family years ago."

"I hear they were really good at that," Tarvek said, because pointing out that they'd done that for a lot of _villages_ would just be rude.

As it turned out, a few of the older students did slip away early from lunch, and Tarvek waited worriedly until everyone filed into the teaching lab and the handful of people already in it were merely scolded for their impatience and then a bit grudgingly complimented on setting things up for the younger pupils. It was a good lab, with work surfaces at different heights and supplies everywhere. The teacher, Mr. Argyll, was a construct. He (they?) had two heads and, for some reason, nine tentacles extending from all around his shoulders and upper chest instead of arms. Both heads seemed to know what they were talking about, though, and Tarvek slid into the lesson easily.

He was quite enjoying himself until he glanced up in time to see someone drop a pellet into the solution of a wild-haired boy his own age - Gil Holzfäller, orphan, Tarvek recalled from the earlier introductions; someone else had supplied the second part. Before Tarvek could say anything indignant about adulterating an experiment, it proved to do worse than that: the purple solution turned pale pink and started fizzing all over the bench, which was certainly not supposed to be the next step.

Gil hurried to mop it up, with more haste than care. Tarvek, his mind's eye filled with visions of corroded flesh and melted workbenches from his father's cautionary tales about laboratory safety, turned down his burner and went to make sure it was done properly. He kept a wary eye on his own work area in between calculating how to neutralise everything they'd used and guess what had been in the pellet. Gil gave him a baffled and deeply suspicious look, which was understandable - at least the suspicious part - but Tarvek felt put-upon anyway.

By the end of the laboratory period, Tarvek still felt put-upon, but he didn't blame Gil for it. Instead of the competitive sabotage Tarvek's cousins engaged in, Gil's lack of family connections made him fair game for teasing and pranks from everybody, and the rules seemed to be different. Trying to steal each other's results was one thing; modifying an experiment or setting booby traps was a good test of both parties' skills, though it did get tiresome at times; but simply _spoiling_ procedures or notes did nothing to advance science at all. And all the efforts were so clumsy. Gil's attempts to protect his work were even worse.

They were ruining it, Tarvek thought fiercely. He'd liked it here already. He'd liked them. Better than his cousins. But a _good_ ruler had a duty to his people. Andronicus Valois and the princes in Sturmhalten hadn't let the old Heterodynes do whatever they liked to _their_ people. Valois had even stopped the renegade Sparks from causing trouble, for a while. He'd have had the Baron at his court, working on... on the first big dirigibles or something. A good ruler, or somebody who was going to be a good ruler, tested himself against actual rivals instead of picking on somebody who couldn't pick back just to _do_ it.

The final straw all around was when King Dunsany's daughter bumped Gil when the teacher's back was turned, managing to jog his arm so that the chemical to be added dropwise all went in at once _and_ knock a solvent over onto his notes. Gil stepped back from the rising cloud of fumes, took one anguished look at his notebook, and then raced off.

"Master Gil," Mr. Argyll said sharply as Gil shoved past him, "where are you going?"

"To cry for his mummy," suggested a ten-year-old who thought he was witty.

Tarvek, who had watched his own mother die, pressed his pen down so hard that the nib broke off in a blot. "I think he got a faceful of fumes when Princess Sleipnir ran into him and spilt half his materials," he said, a little too loudly. As the teacher saw what had happened to Gil's workbench and began to look alarmed at the silvery cloud rising from it, Tarvek added recklessly, "I'll go check on him, shall I?" and ducked out, leaving everyone else to deal with containment.

He managed to keep up an air of purposeful certainty until he went through the door Gil had used and found himself in a storage room. He stepped out of sight of the door and looked around, puzzled. It was a small room, full of the dusty dry throat-catching smell of chemical powders. Well kept, no actual dust to smear and leave a trail. But Gil wasn't in here, so there had to be another way out.

Tarvek spent a minute searching briskly for secret passages, listening uneasily to the sounds from the classroom outside and hoping not to be interrupted, and then stopped. Thought. There had to be a way out, but why would the Baron build a secret passage to the chemical storage room off a teaching laboratory? This wasn't an old family home with the interstices holding as many passageways as its owners had been able to fit without making it unstable and sometimes a few more. Castle Wulfenbach wasn't _finished_. The school sat on the edge of a blob of livable areas among a lot of... framework.

So if he tried _this_ side of the room, and instead of proper secret passages he just looked for a way through a recently built wall...

Tarvek slid one of the panels gently aside and was encouraged to find that it didn't grate loudly. He wriggled through, got his legs safely onto a girder, and pulled the panel back into place after him. Then he sat back on his heels and considered his situation. He swallowed. Solving the problem had been interesting, but now he was sneaking around Baron Wulfenbach's airship and everybody had seen where he went. Maybe he should have spilt something else before he left, to keep them busy.

The engine noise and occasional distant clangs were punctuated by a quiet sniffle, somewhere in the dark off to his right, and Tarvek remembered what he'd set out to do and moved quietly toward the sound. He got as far as seeing the one irregular shape in the dim light before realising that he didn't know any rules for this kind of conversation. Great. He cleared his throat slightly and began, "Gil?"

"What do you want?" said Gil, sounding prickly enough that his voice was the vocal equivalent of a curled up hedgehog.

"Ah-" Tarvek usually had a better answer to that question. "Are you okay?" He seized on his excuse to the teacher and added, quickly, "The fumes from that reaction could have been bad, especially with the volatile solvent mixed in. If you got any in your eyes you should really flush them with water or preferably buffered saline as soon as possible."

Gil moved around to peer at him, eyes visible as faint glimmers in the darkness. "It's fine. I'm not going back to rinse them."

"All right." He'd seen Gil pull back, after all. He didn't believe there was actually any risk. "But you probably should, whenever you do go back in. Just in case. Of any irritation." And so it wouldn't show that he'd been crying. _Now_ what? He'd expected Gil to be in another part of the school, not out in the sprawling dark. "I don't know where you expect people to think you are. There's no place to hide in that storeroom."

"Everyone knows where I am, they just don't know where I am," Gil said, and then apparently realised that made no sense and shook his head. "They know I know how to get around out here. There's no point in trying to follow me."

Tarvek considered pointing out that _he'd_ followed him. But if Gil had gone farther he doubted he could have picked up the trail. "Don't you get in trouble for that?" And how much trouble was _he_ going to be in?

"I don't care," said Gil defiantly. "We're not meant to come out here, but everyone does. It's interesting." He twisted around properly, uncurling and dangling his legs over the edge of his walkway to regard Tarvek solemnly, no longer hunched up defensively but not ready to trust yet either. "I might get in trouble for leaving a lesson though. You might too if you don't go back."

Tarvek forced himself not to hunch his shoulders, even if a small part of his mind was wailing that it was only his first afternoon there and how could he have got into trouble already? He didn't ask what the Baron - well, the teachers, more plausibly - would do to them, either. "I told the teacher you'd had a faceful of chemical fumes and I was going to check on you. If you go in soon and wash your face right away then we might both be fine."

Gil scrunched up again. "I told you I don't care. Being in trouble won't be worse than having to put up with all of them for the rest of the lesson anyway."

Tarvek's heart sank. "Are you sure?" he asked before he thought properly about it.

"Cleaning grease traps is pretty horrible, but at least grease traps don't _mean_ to be horrible," Gil answered.

"Grease traps?" Tarvek asked blankly.

"Um. Things in sinks and stuff for catching grease in water you pour away. In the kitchens, and from when people grease the engines. And in the labs too, but other stuff than grease gets caught there so we aren't made to clean them."

"I know what a grease trap is," Tarvek said, slightly nettled. "I was just surprised."

"I didn't think nobility had to deal with grease traps. Until they come here, anyway," Gil said. He grinned, suddenly, a white flash of teeth. "I don't think Zulenna knew what one was until she had to clean one for the first time. She made such a fuss."

"My father is very strict about laboratory safety. I've been drilled on where _anything_ hazardous can wind up, or had better not." Tarvek hesitated. "Are we talking about ones for individual sinks, or the big tanks?" Even the little ones could get pretty disgusting, if you had to open one up when it hadn't been emptied for a while.

"The little ones," said Gil. "I think the big ones actually might be worse than going back."

"I guess that isn't too bad." And if sneaking out into the unfinished areas was really not unusual, maybe he could make up for this one time by being very diligent. "Is that really all they'll do to us?"

Gil tipped his head on one side. "If you get caught by Jägers they sometimes threaten to do some really weird stuff, but they don't mean it. And if I'm with Agatha they just pretend they haven't seen us, it drives the Baron nuts." Then, somewhere between curious and starting to worry, "What does your family do if you sneak off?"

_If he's with Agatha?!_ Gil spent enough time sneaking around with the Heterodyne girl that the Jägers had skipped catching them multiple times? The other students were picking on a Heterodyne companion in her absence? Tarvek rearranged the implications in his head a couple of times while he answered, "Well, it's hardly the same. Sturmhalten doesn't exactly have humongous construction areas like this. But I'm expected to be... wherever I'm expected to be. And I assumed Baron Wulfenbach's people would be rather strict about it all." About hostage behavior, but he supposed an orphan couldn't exactly be a hostage.

"The Baron's nowhere near as strict as he seems," said Gil. "Otilia's strict, but she hates punishing us. It _is_ scary if you really upset her, though."

That was... interesting and unexpected. "I wouldn't want to upset her. She's a _Muse_." Tarvek sat down and let his own feet dangle. Getting back promptly was obviously a lost cause, so he might as well be comfortable. He seriously doubted Gil was going to tackle him, so the ability to move fast wasn't as essential as it could be. "I know they were meant to teach, but it's still so weird for her to be _here_."

Gil nodded. "She used to be a construct," he said quietly, not whispering but confidential anyway. "She was the Heterodyne's nursemaid, Lucrezia moved her brain somehow. She was looking after me before the school started and then she turned out to be a Muse. I wasn't sure if she'd be different, but she's just calmer about things mostly." Gil swung his legs. "Everyone's excited about her now, though."

That fit with what Agatha herself had said. Apparently the knowledge was more widespread than Tarvek had thought, but then, she hadn't acted like it was a secret. "She was looking after you _before_ the school?" Tarvek's thoughts went to the lost Heterodyne heir - there was supposed to have been a boy. Maybe Barry Heterodyne was hiding him? But then why let everybody know about the girl? Could he make the Jägers not let on? Anyway, he'd have been younger.

"I was the first one here," Gil said, sounding unsure whether to be proud of that or not. "I guess the Baron just found me somewhere, but that was before he started taking hostages. So for a while it was just me. He was probably planning to take more children already, or he would have left me with someone."

"The nannies my family hires aren't _nearly_ that interesting," Tarvek admitted. Experimentally, he tried to imagine Baron Wulfenbach finding a small child and deciding to keep it.

"The Baron hires _lots_ of interesting people," said Gil.

"Does he?" If Gil felt like telling...

"Like all the people from Beetleburg," said Gil. "They're not famous though. Except for Punch and Judy."

"There are a lot of people from Beetleburg?" Interesting but not famous people from Beetleburg? Tarvek felt he had missed a step. At least Punch and Judy made sense, what with the Heterodyne involvement. What had the Baron done, hired away half the university?

"Like our science teacher," said Gil. "I think they were all Punch and Judy's friends."

"Oh." Probably not from the university then. At least, not the faculty. "I think the science teacher needs more eyes. Or an assistant."

Gil sighed. "It would probably help," he muttered.

At least Gil didn't think Mr. Argyll was ignoring it on purpose. Tarvek didn't either, but it would have been a plausible guess. "I'm used to having more instructors at a time. My cousins and I mess with each other's work, but that's - that's also part of the lessons. Our instructors would never let us get away with some of what they were doing. Nobody learns anything that way. And it's-" He broke off.

"...Agatha wants to boobytrap everything but I don't really want to fight them," said Gil. "Some of them are okay. Sometimes. Sleipnir's pretty nice until the others start."

No good offering elaborate revenge on her, then. Tarvek wasn't really excited about the idea either. "They shouldn't _be_ like that," he said, even though ranting about the ideal behaviour of a ruler in Castle Wulfenbach might not be smart. "If they're going to be in charge eventually, they're supposed to be _better_ than that." A sigh. "Protective traps, maybe," he suggested after a moment, looking for a compromise. "No poison or blades, but something to... dye them purple, maybe, so it's obvious they tried and you beat them. That's if you're not there. If it's in lab you'd need more of a warning, or something to slow them down, but even for a Spark in his own lab, it's tricky to make an experimental setup impervious to interference while you're working on it." He hesitated and glanced back over his shoulder. The laboratory period shouldn't be over yet. Maybe... "Or, well, you can get someone to watch your back." Sometimes. If you gave them a good enough reason.

Gil let out a snort of laughter and then covered his mouth, but when he looked up he was still smiling. "You and Agatha should really get along," he said. "But I don't want _you_ to boobytrap my stuff either." He considered Tarvek for a moment. "Were you offering to watch my back?"

Tarvek was determined to get along with Agatha regardless, but this was probably a really good sign. And he felt weirdly happy about making Gil smile. "If you'll watch mine," he said, mostly for form's sake - though, even if Gil wasn't that wary yet, he could probably learn. "Actually for today I was thinking I'd ask if you wanted to work with me." Assuming nobody had messed with _his_ workbench, but it would probably be obvious if they had. "There isn't really time to start over, so hopefully we'd be allowed."

"That would be nice," said Gil, suddenly sounding almost shy about it. "Thanks."

Tarvek let out a relieved breath and smiled at him. "Okay. So, we go in, and straight to the wash station, and I'll ask the teacher about working together." Hopefully then they wouldn't be in too much trouble. And he'd found out a lot already about the students here. Maybe it was a good thing he'd had a chance to observe them without Agatha here, after all. And lucky that he'd gone after Gil. That could help with befriending Agatha.

(He thought he liked talking to Gil. And the Heterodyne girl tried to look after the student who got bullied, even if she was three years younger. She sounded like she might be one of the good ones, when she was queen someday.)

The science teacher didn't yell at them when they got back, and they didn't get sent to clean grease traps.

Tarvek decided it was a pretty good afternoon.

* * *

She couldn't say Sturmhalten had been boring, exactly - it was a new place and their piano sounded _amazing_ - but Agatha was glad to be back at the school anyway. She got there just as everybody was starting in for dinner, returned greetings happily, and got Theo to lift her up for a few seconds so she could spot Gil and Tarvek. They were together, which was convenient, and Tarvek's pet (a giant mimmoth, or perhaps a not quite so miniaturised mammoth) apparently scented him because it let out a trumpeting squeal and started galumphing around people. She darted after it. "Hi! Tarvek, I brought your - what do you call that?"

Tarvek crouched down and petted it, looking delighted, and it patted at his face with its trunk. "A midmoth. My cousin made him for me. His name is Andy. I didn't think Baron Wulfenbach would let me have him at the school."

"He said he couldn't see why not, unless it was likely to explode," Agatha said. Tarvek looked rather shocked at the idea. "Oh, and your father and sister are on board for dinner, and you're old enough to go join them if you want but you don't have to," she recited dutifully.

Tarvek looked uncertain and thoughtful for a moment and then nodded. "Thank you. I'll stay here. Would you like to sit with us?"

"What was Sturmhalten like?" asked Gil, offering the midmoth a hand to sniff and then grinning when Andy wrapped his trunk around it.

"I was planning to. And it's really pretty, but -" She gave Tarvek an apologetic look. "I don't think Tarvek's sister is as much fun as Theo. Maybe she doesn't like littler kids as much."

Tarvek's look also turned apologetic. "I should have stayed. I thought they'd bring you back here when I went."

"Uncle Barry said it was good for me to get to know our neighbours," Agatha said, as they found seats. Andy curled up under Tarvek's chair with an air of expecting snacks. "I'll have lots more time to get to know you." She settled in between them and looked up at them both. "Did anything interesting happen here?"

Gil and Tarvek looked at each other and Gil said, "Not really."

"Okay." That was too bad, but sometimes it didn't. "You want to play with the dragon later?" Tarvek seemed nice; maybe he'd like to meet it too.

"Yes," said Gil, smiling. "You can come with us," he added, to Tarvek. "I didn't get a chance to show you around earlier."

Tarvek's expression was very uncertain. "Sneaking off again?" he asked, lowering his voice.

Agatha beamed encouragingly at him. "Gil finds _all_ the best places."

"Okay," said Tarvek. Then added, "You have a dragon?"

"It's a clank. We found it in Gradok Heterodyne's lab from when he was a kid. Uncle Barry took out the flamethrower so it was safe to have on an airship." After a moment's thought, she added, "I guess I have Franz, but he lives in Mechanicsburg."

"The Great Dragon of Mechanicsburg is called Franz?" said Tarvek.

"Uh-huh. He's really nice. Uh..." Agatha ducked her head a bit sheepishly. "Except he used to eat people, apparently."

Tarvek looked awkward. Gil jumped in to say, "He let us ride on him. The clank dragon is a lot of fun but too small for that. Um, obviously. I'd like to build one that's big enough, though."

At that Tarvek stopped looking awkward and looked enthusiastic. "Could I help? I've worked on clanks at home, sometimes. Although not dragons."

Gil lit up. "We ought to get one if all three of us are trying."

"Maybe after dinner? Or were you going to show me your dragon then?" Tarvek asked.

"We can look at that one and all the notes," Agatha said. "And go - hmm, we probably don't have time to try and build a dragon _and_ go exploring."

"We should go exploring if we can," said Gil. "Because we can work on the flying dragon with adults around."

"That's true." She wasn't sure if anybody expected them to _succeed_ in building a flying dragon they could ride, but it was _allowed_.

They ate fast and slipped away from dinner a little early, while Madame Otilia was still busy. Agatha felt her eyes on them, and Tarvek actually turned to look back. Agatha tugged on his arm, and he followed them, but it felt like he was hanging back a little. Agatha made a side trip to get Gradok's little dragon and its harness while Tarvek took his midmoth to make a nest or something, and then she met the boys in the recreational mechanical lab, with the dragon tucked firmly under her arm. From there, they wormed under a shelf, Gil moved a panel aside, and they were out into the rumbly unfinished parts of Castle Wulfenbach.

As soon as they were around the first corner, Agatha stopped to check the harness - she didn't think Castle Heterodyne would be impressed, but she didn't want to have to chase the little dragon all over the _whole_ dirigible, so she'd made it one first thing out of reinforced cable - and turned the dragon back on. It immediately flew to the limit of the harness and then made an indignant little noise and dived back to display its claws to her.

"Is it sentient?" Tarvek asked, leaning over to try and get a look at it while staying out of reach of its claws.

The dragon flopped down on its back in Agatha's lap, waving its feet at her imperiously until she caught one and started taking the claws out to replace the original lockpicks. "I think it's smart like a cat."

Tarvek knelt down and shuffled closer. "It's remarkable," he said. "I wonder how its mind - I suppose it would be a bad idea to try and look -"

"You can look," said Agatha. "Just not when it's on. I think things might fall out if it took off while it's open."

Tarvek nodded and sat back. "Does it obey you?" he asked.

"Not really," said Gil.

Agatha sort of felt like she wanted to be grumpy about that, but it was true and anyway, it was Gil. "The Castle says when Gradok built it, he had to chase it all over." She looked around and down over the edge. "I let it loose inside the school one time without its lockpicks and it didn't get out, but it got _into_ pretty much _everything_."

"That's interesting," said Tarvek. "Most Sparks would start out with making sure a clank obeyed them, but Heterodyne creations -" He stopped and looked a bit embarrassed at bringing it up.

"Have a _lot_ of personality?" Agatha said, grinning.

Tarvek relaxed and smiled back. "Something like that."

"Uncle Barry says that sometimes. Not always like it's a good thing." She finished the last lockpick, dropped the replacement claws into their pouch, and patted the dragon's tummy before it zoomed upward again.

"Maybe he means the Castle," said Gil.

"They don't get along very well sometimes," Agatha admitted.

"Um," said Tarvek. "Do either of you read much history?"

"Not really," Agatha said, a little confused. "I didn't have a lot of books before the school. Just the ones Uncle Barry bought when we were travelling, or wrote down."

Gil looked uncomfortable. "Me neither. I'm working through the school library."

"My family's town is right outside the area the Castle can reach with torchmen," said Tarvek. "It was built as close to Mechanicsburg as it could get without being destroyed. The Castle would probably still like to do that, if it could."

Agatha blinked. "I didn't know it could send them that far," she said, intrigued. She wasn't _exactly_ sure how far Sturmhalten was, but she knew it would have taken a lot longer to walk than it had in airships. You couldn't see it from Mechanicsburg. "Why did your ancestors want to build right at the edge of our lands?"

"We were serving the Storm King," said Tarvek proudly. "Your ancestors weren't like your uncle, they were really dangerous. The Storm King was protecting everyone, so he had to keep them inside their own lands where they couldn't attack anyone. We were the closest, because we were needed on the pass, the other castles keeping them in were further away."

"Oh." Okay, she could see that. She liked Castle Heterodyne, but it could be really mean, and Franz used to eat people, and Uncle Barry had told her that their ancestors had mostly looked after Mechanicsburg but weren't usually very nice. It made sense if that meant they'd attacked people outside it. "So the Storm King was kind of like Baron Wulfenbach?"

"No!" said Tarvek, looking like he'd bitten into a bad nut. "The Storm King had a right to rule Europa."

"How come?" Gil asked. "I'd heard of the Storm King, but besides him and the Heterodyne Boys I thought it had mostly always been a lot of little kingdoms and things trying to conquer each other."

"He had agreements and things," said Tarvek, tipping his chin up a little haughtily. "And he was a King."

Agatha exchanged a puzzled look with Gil. "The Baron and Uncle Barry have agreements," she said. They'd just made one with Tarvek's father. "Isn't that why you're here?"

"Kings - and princes - usually outrank barons," Gil offered. "I don't think Sparks usually bother about that though."

"The Storm King wasn't a Spark," said Tarvek. "In the fifty families the Spark's still not the only thing that matters."

"I know," Gil said, making a face. "It's always who your family are."

Tarvek frowned at him. "Sparks care about that too, as soon as it's _their_ family inheriting."

Gil looked away, then said, "But I don't think the Storm King's father ruled Europe, either."

Gil was starting to look upset and Agatha wasn't sure if Tarvek knew why. "_Anyway,_" she said to Tarvek, "Uncle Barry said your father wrote to them, so I guess he doesn't think it's a bad idea. If the Storm King has heirs who are supposed to be protecting Europe, they obviously need help, so I think they should do that too."

Tarvek looked surprised and then smiled. "Maybe they will." He looked at Gil and added, "Sorry. We were meant to be exploring and I got distracted."

Gil took a deep breath and smiled back. "No problem. Let's go."

Agatha twitched the dragon-clank's tether so that it dived back down toward them and then lunged away again impatiently. Gil grabbed her and steadied her, and they set off to see what the Baron had built lately.

Tarvek followed them, head jerking up to every muffled sound vibrating through the girders around them. The big, empty space carried sounds, so they were quiet, bare feet pattering along walkways with barely more noise than a mimmoth. All of them were careful, jumping and holding their breath when a panel tipped slightly under Agatha's heel and dropped back into place with a clatter, but for Agatha and Gil it was a fun sort of wariness, scares followed by hands flattened over their mouths to muffle giggles. At times Agatha thought Tarvek was really afraid - once he froze so sharply she found herself remembering her uncle, still like that with his hand holding her tight against him - and she wondered if he was enjoying this at all.

Then Gil jumped easily across a gap between webs of girders and leaned back for Agatha, when she was just too short to reach, and Tarvek grabbed one of her hands tightly, so she could let go with the other and lean out far enough to grab Gil. They scrambled over, joined into a chain, the dragon's harness tangling her fingers and Tarvek's together, for several breathless moments keeping each other from falling. Then they were all clinging to the new scaffolding, and when Agatha grinned up at Tarvek he was smiling just as hard as she was.

"This wasn't here at all last time we came through," she whispered as they started toward the nearest walls.

"I know." Gil looked back, eyes alight. "They're building out between the labs over there-" He pointed left for Tarvek's benefit. "And the living quarters that way. I couldn't tell what they were putting in, last time, but there are some really big rooms and I saw them bringing up really enormous lamps."

"Lamps?" asked Tarvek. "Like ones for really big rooms?"

"I guess. They were shaped funny. All flat. We can probably find them; they can't be that hard to-" Gil broke off abruptly at the distinct ringing of an adult-sized boot on the catwalks.

Tarvek went utterly still again, except for his eyes darting around. Agatha looked toward the sound, off to their right, and wondered if they shouldn't have gone for deeper shadows.

Another footstep, and another, and a figure came out from behind a corner of the new walls. Agatha relaxed. It was a Jäger. He tilted his head, sniffed twice, and then looked straight at them and grinned so his sharp teeth caught the light.

Agatha grinned back and waved.

The Jäger made a gesture somewhere between a wave and a salute and walked on without stopping. Once he was gone Tarvek let out a strangled sounding gasp and Gil looked at him with concern. "I _told_ you the Jägers ignore anyone with Agatha," he said.

Tarvek still looked rather pale. Agatha took his hand again. "I _am_ the Heterodyne, you know," she said, a little jokily because it wasn't _exactly_ true until she came of age, but she thought the reminder might help.

Tarvek squeezed her hand and managed to smile at her. "Right. And he really won't tell anyone?"

She shook her head. "If we were gone long enough people started to worry, I guess he'd come back to look for us. But I think everybody's calmed down a lot about that." Even Madame Otilia. Actually, Madame Otilia seemed calmer about a lot of things since she'd stopped being Madame Von Pinn.

"They know you do this?" said Tarvek. "Not just the Jägers, I mean, but your uncle and Baron Wulfenbach?"

"Um," said Agatha. "Kind of. The first time I went, we were just visiting, and they noticed we were gone and came looking." And Uncle Barry had told her she'd have to follow the school rules if she was going to attend, she remembered uncomfortably. But as long as they didn't damage anything or worry people she thought it was okay. It wasn't like the grownups tried very hard to keep them in, and it was so interesting out here.

"Oh," said Tarvek, looking a little uncertain again, although no longer as shaken as he had been.

"Baron Wulfenbach said our music box was pretty good for being made out of lab parts," Agatha added. "You can see it if you want, but the sound quality on the later ones is better."

"Here we go!" Gil whispered excitedly. Agatha and Tarvek both looked up at him. They were in among half-built walls now, and Gil grabbed Agatha's other hand and towed them around a corner to a maintenance door next to what did, indeed, look like the back workings of a really big flat lamp. After clambering around and puzzling over this for a bit, they reeled in the dragon, which made short work of the lock and then sat on Agatha's head (which really wasn't comfortable) as they went through.

And stopped and huddled in the corner next to it, because on one side of them was the big lamp and on the other was a coloured glass wall.

"What in the world?" Gil asked, sounding baffled.

"There are stained glass windows in Mechanicsburg," Agatha said, feeling very confused herself, "but not indoors."

Gil peered through a bit of pale yellow glass. "Well, we can't go through here, there's people. They'd see our shadows. Let's go find a different one."

Instead of opening the door again and going out, Tarvek shifted aside so Gil could reach it, and didn't take his eyes off the glass. "That's beautiful," he whispered. "It must look even better from the other side."

Gil looked at him for a moment, then said, "There were a bunch of the lights. If we find an empty room we can look at the glass from inside."

Tarvek stared longingly at the glass for a moment longer - Agatha tried not to be impatient, because it _was_ pretty but she'd rather see one she could actually look at properly instead of staying squished in a corner because there were people using the room on the other side of it - and then followed them out. They found an empty room on the third try and wandered around it a few times, looking at the stained glass and trying to guess the room's purpose from the flooring. But Tarvek was too nervous about somebody coming in to enjoy that as much, and Agatha and Gil had to admit he had a point, so they went back up to climb around investigating the lamp and look at the indoor window from behind.

"They _are_ usually meant to be seen in sunlight," Tarvek said, sitting in the cool spot behind one of the mirrors that made sure most of the light was thrown into the room. "I don't know why they're building them indoors."

"Most of the exterior windows on the dirigible are meant for people to see out of, I think," said Gil. "Maybe Baron Wulfenbach wanted some anyway because he likes them as much as you do."

Tarvek looked somewhat doubtful about that - perhaps he was just having a hard time imagining Baron Wulfenbach admiring a stained glass window.

Gil shrugged, and they moved on, because even behind the mirrors the lamps were awfully warm. Agatha was sweaty all over and it was just as well they'd be made to take baths when they got back.

The big rooms with stained glass windows gave way to finished labs that Agatha and Gil had seen already. They didn't meet up quite evenly, because the rooms were different shapes and there was a lot of support equipment on the lab side. Agatha thought it might be time to go back. Tarvek hadn't seen the labs, but they were more likely to have people in them, so he probably didn't _want_ to see them right now, and she was getting tired.

She was surprised when Tarvek slipped away into an opening she hadn't even paid attention to and then peeked out of it, glasses slightly askew and looking excited. "Come in here!"

They did. There wasn't anything inside, just a space, but it was a nice space. The flooring extended into it, and it was big enough for all three of them to spread out a bit, but it was too low and narrow to be a room meant for grownups.

"You found a secret room," Agatha said, pleased. "I mean, you found an _accidental_ secret room."

Tarvek looked a little flushed and, suddenly, much more relaxed. "I thought maybe we could make a... a redoubt here."

Gil looked at him. "It's not a fort..."

Tarvek flushed a bit more. "A figurative one. Where we could... could put things we didn't want found. Or come to work on them. Or talk. If you wanted."

Gil brightened. "That sounds like a good idea." He looked up at the ceiling centimeters above his head and laughed. "At least until we get taller."


	12. In Which the Jägers Acquire Calamari

"Cahul is calling for help," Barry said as Klaus waved him into his office.

Klaus blinked and then scowled. "Already?" This was understandable. Barry had hardly reached Mechanicsburg from the negotiations when the courier caught up with him, and he'd turned around and come straight to Castle Wulfenbach. "What's going on? And why is this the first I - oh, never mind, of course they wrote to you."

Barry slung himself into a chair and handed over the letter. "They want more squid. Or fewer, possibly. The Duke of Taraclia has sent an army of them."

"He's attacking one of our allies," said Klaus. "I made the consequences of that quite clear. There's no need to simply increase Cahul's defences."

"I _was_ assuming we'd show up with them," Barry said. While the growing Wulfenbach military was not reassuring to everyone and the Heterodyne one had rarely reassured anyone at all outside Mechanicsburg and its immediate surroundings, the promise of active defence was a definite selling point for many of their new allies. "Ah. Right. You'll be planning to keep Taraclia."

"Yes. Depending on the situation, he may get to remain in place as a vassal." Attacking people with an army of squid wasn't promising, but enough Sparks who were otherwise sensible rulers had moments of attacking people with monsters that Barry could see why Klaus wasn't entirely ruling that out.

"You know, I thought at some point you said you were tired of leaving lunatics in charge with a promise to do better next time," Barry said, lightly teasing.

"A promise to do better next time _or else_ is different," said Klaus. "Anyway, we can decide what to do with him after we've taken the town. It shouldn't be too hard if we take the Jägers, squid - yours excepted - aren't usually efficient fighters."

"They are difficult to adapt for land combat." Barry frowned slightly, thinking. "We'll want to be careful about the townspeople."

"I do try to avoid hurting civilians," said Klaus. "If we give them time to get out or take shelter and then take the army out fast they should be in minimal danger."

"I was including the army."

Klaus gave him an incredulous look. "You can't fight a battle without hurting the opposing army."

"I know that, but we can try to minimise it. This probably isn't _their_ idea." And wasn't this usually Klaus's argument?

"I'm not suggesting we don't ask them to surrender. I'm saying if they don't surrender then they're going to have to take the consequences of that."

"And I think we can come up with ways to make the fight less lethal."

"At considerable risk to our own troops," said Klaus, frowning. "Fighting someone who is trying to kill you when you're not trying to kill them is extremely dangerous."

"I know, we've done it before," Barry said drily.

"And it made us less effective than we could have been, with the time and the risks we took on that," said Klaus. "And this time it's not just a risk to us."

"Part of the effect we were after was _keeping people alive_!" Barry said, then stopped and inhaled slowly. Klaus was not wholly wrong. Admit that part. "I'm not disputing that it was slower and more dangerous." But even if it had allowed them to reach more towns over time, he didn't think less care would have been an improvement on balance. "On the other hand, this time we're bringing a lot more force to bear. Which also means we'll be taking an army inside the town itself, so even if the army gives us enough trouble to require killing them, I want nonlethal options for anybody who's just in the way, inadvertently or not."

"Inadvertently I'll grant you, but anyone deliberately getting in our way is actively fighting us whether they have a gun in their hands or not."

"And at that point it'll be because we're _invading their town_."

Klaus hesitated for a moment, then his eyebrows drew together. "Invading their town is necessary, and getting our troops killed doing it isn't. What would you suggest as an alternative?"

"Well, it helps that Jägers are hard to kill," said Barry, sitting back a little. And just when had he started assuming he could send Jägers into battle in a town and tell them to try not to kill people? "And I've seen the battle clanks you're working on; they're miles past Beetle's already."

"The clanks are one thing. The Jägers are hard to kill but not impossible to hurt." Klaus considered that, then sighed. "Although with you here there's very little that can't be fixed."

That didn't mean the injuries didn't _matter_, but the rest still did too. "That's true, although I'm really not trying to be cavalier about it. They're also _very_ good." Barry paused, thoughts veering off in a more technical direction and then taking a quick swerve into directly practical concerns. "And I might have some ideas we should give them a chance to practise with before we arrive."

Klaus gave him a _look_. "Did you just assume you'd won this argument and go straight into working out how we could do it your way and still have it work?"

"I've been working out how to do it my way since I got the letter," Barry said, then had to admit, "But yes, I suppose I did."

"...I'll take a look at your ideas," said Klaus, rubbing his forehead. "If they seem like they'd work we can try it, the Jägers won't want to do something you don't agree to anyway. But if this results in too many casualties we're doing it _my_ way next time."

* * *

Agatha had seen this gymnasium before. It was one of the ones designed for Jägers, which meant they had even less hope of managing to climb anything than in the ones meant for adults. Today the floor was white and slightly shiny and there was a machine with a big spray nozzle sitting on a vaulting horse.

Tarvek poked at the floor with an inquisitive toe. "It's slippery."

"Ooh. Like ice skating," said Agatha. She'd been ice skating last winter — they'd stopped in a small village and Uncle Barry had made ice skates for her and all the kids that didn't already have them. She didn't have her skates with her, but maybe it would be the same? She decided to experiment and stepped out, trying for the long, gliding steps she'd made on the frozen lake. At first she thought it was the same, and turned to grin at Gil and Tarvek who were watching impressed from the doorway, but in a moment she found out it wasn't quite like ice skating. Without the friction of a blade on ice, melting a straight track, her feet could go sideways as well as forward. One went out from under her and she fell on her bottom, more jarred than hurt. "I'm okay," she said quickly, pushing herself back up carefully on hands and knees, twisting to look at the boys over her shoulder. "Come and try it."

Tarvek edged out of the doorway with a frown, concentrating not worried, touching the wall with one hand while he imitated Agatha's movements. Gil took a few steps back and Agatha was just about to tell him it wasn't really hard when he ran forward and took a flying leap into the gym, knees bent to keep his centre of gravity low as he skidded across the floor grinning wildly. He made it across most of the room before falling over and sliding shoulder first into the wall with a _thud_.

"Gil!" Tarvek shouted and let go of the wall to try to run to him, predictably falling over himself and winding up floundering forwards on hands and knees.

Gil rolled over and sat up, face twisted between pain and laughter.

Tarvek stopped, still on hands and knees and bellowed, _"Haven't you got the sense of a Jägermonster?"_

"They're not stupid!" Agatha said, because those were _her_ Jägers, as she skated across to help Gil up.

"Hey!" Gil protested, realising she'd defended the Jägers and not him.

Tarvek flopped face down in his arms, glasses askew. "Promise you won't ever do that again."

Gil, half holding the wall and half Agatha, managed to get to his feet rather than pulling her off hers, and grinned at Tarvek. "If you stop clinging to the wall and try this properly."

"I'm not clinging, I'm _practising_," said Tarvek with dignity. He clambered to his feet and skated to the centre of the room with a few graceful steps, shooting a triumphant glance at Gil.

Agatha giggled.

* * *

The squid the Jägers hacked at, rough and messy. Tentacles anchored them, entangled them, reduced their normal darting patterns to hacking and clawing, stopped them going to each other's aid, but for all that that the rubbery flesh parted under swords and claws and if it was messy it wasn't leaving the Jägers with much more damage than wrenched limbs and puncture wounds, occasional patches of skin stripped away in long grazes. Most of the blood they came away covered in was blue.

Barry had more sense than to try to close with a squid with merely human strength (Klaus was a different question and irritatingly hard to keep track of), but death rays aimed at the heads left the tentacles writhing uncoordinatedly and added a surreal odor of seafood to the battlefield atmosphere. He had enough distance to be mostly out of it when they reached the first squid with modified ink, which sprayed a black mist into the air instead of puddles. The edge of it made him cough but also gave him enough information to start improvising a quick neutralising agent, spritz the area as a test, and then fall back to the chemical wagons to start a bigger batch. The next batch of squid had emphasised the cohering properties of the ink; in water this might have made an effective decoy, but here Barry mostly ended up charging around ungluing Jägers who had been caught in it and wishing he'd thought to put glue guns on his own kraken.

Although, he thought, ducking a large chunk of tentacle as one of them boiled up under the nearest land squid, perhaps the burrowing blades were enough after all.

The town was different. Inside the town _people_ poured out. Trained soldiers, some of them, others confused farmers and craftsmen clutching at their sharpest tools, reacting to an invasion of their homes. The Jägers stopped at the edge of the town, heads tipping towards one another, conferring. He heard growling laughs here and there and suppressed a sigh — this was Jägers _not_ trying to be intimidating — before lifting his megaphone.

"This is Barry Heterodyne," he announced. The projection system picked up the signal from the megaphone, and his voice echoed over the city from the airships ringing it. "We are here to liberate you. Throw down your weapons and you will not be harmed. Come out of the city and you will be protected." He wanted to protect them anyway, but he couldn't guarantee their safety in the middle of combat.

Inside the town some people dropped their weapons, started to shuffle forward looking around them, and then took courage at noticing their neighbours doing the same and started to stride.

"Leave the town and I will turn you into squidapeds!" yelled a voice from inside the town, wild and on the edge of laughter. "My soldiers will kill you if the Jägers don't eat you first!"

"Oh for God's sake," Barry snapped, "they don't actually eat people, and _we_ aren't going to turn you into anything you don't ask for. But if you're currently somewhere safe, _stay there_ until we can get to you, your Duke clearly can't be trusted with you."

People hesitated, cowed by their Spark, some ran back to their dropped weapons. But others looked at each other and threw theirs down, and then as the voice yelled, "Soldiers!" started to run.

The Jägers moved apart, letting the people flow through them like water. A horn rang out somewhere and then half the Jägers moved into a more complete circle and half of them were gone, bounding from windowsill to windowsill and onto the roofs of the city.

Barry stuck the megaphone back on his belt and ran for the ladder to one of the smaller airships, where Klaus turned out to be already aboard. "There you are. You could have shouted at them from here, you know."

Barry snorted. "I was busy. I'm surprised we didn't have to pry you out of there."

"I kept out of the glue," Klaus said blandly.

The smaller airships turned inward and began criss-crossing over the city, dodging the occasional upward barrage. Some doused the Duke's soldiers and streets in slick liquid, leaving the soldiers slithering helplessly and the more agile (and prepared) Jägers to attack from above or cheerfully skate over the cobblestones. Some served as decoys. And this one headed directly over the Duke's castle and let Klaus and Barry down in rope harnesses onto the roof.

Getting into the castle was relatively easy, familiar and almost fun; the Duke had not guarded it heavily from above, and they both had plenty of practice sneaking past guards, or sneaking up on guards and rendering them unconscious with minimal risk by various basic or creative means. And even though the ones at home weren't actually intended to kill _him_, Barry had never been able to shake a slight and irrational suspicion that most other Sparks who made deathtraps weren't really putting their all into the design process.

Klaus identified the logic of the floor plan (the Duke _had_ logic to his floor plan, which always helped, although Klaus also had an astounding ability to follow the unrelated jumps between mashed-together purpose in some haphazard pieces of architecture, and had once laughed so hard he had to sit down when Bill mentioned being impressed) and they made their way toward the inner sanctum. Conscious of the risks being taken in the battle outside, they went only a little slower than if there was a doomsday device on countdown. It increased the chances of being surrounded after the fact, but of course, by then they'd have the Duke.

The Duke had retreated here by now, or had never left; they could hear the voice now and it was the same one that had threatened the townspeople. "You've been listening to Heterodyne stories," the Duke sneered. "What are you afraid of?" There were probably several reasonable and accurate responses to this. Nobody volunteered them. "They're fiction! They're exaggerated!" Something crashed inside, and there was a faint sizzle. Barry could picture the sweep of the Duke's arm, the arc and shatter of glassware off the bench and something corrosive splashing on stone. It probably had not endeared him to anyone on that side of the room. "Are you expecting them to just materialise inside here?"

One day, some Spark or another was going to give them a perfect line like that and actually be prepared for them to take the cue. So far even Lucifer Mongfish hadn't managed it yet. Barry kicked the door in.

Klaus flashed past him and had hoisted the Duke by the back of the neck before anyone else had a chance to move. Barry hastily narrowed the beam on his sleep gun and dropped the guards who were in a position to fire on Klaus from behind, then covered the other half of them, smiling faintly, as they looked uneasily from him to their captive lord to their fallen fellows.

"Put down your weapons," Klaus said evenly.

"_Shoot them_," the Duke snarled. Barry arched an eyebrow at him and hefted the sleep gun.

The remaining guards evaluated the situation and obeyed Klaus.

That taken care of, Barry scanned the rest of the room hastily to mark likely traps. Klaus was holding the Duke just out of reach of a cord attached to something presumably unpleasant in the ceiling... several likely-looking levers in various parts of the room... There was one apparently unarmed man, or at least unweaponed - a jester in motley, standing at the back of the room with all four arms folded, looking wary. Barry gave him an extra sliver of attention, perplexed; he wasn't acting like a _guard_ and was making no effort to be a distraction-

The man's eyes flicked to the Duke, and burned. _Oh._

He wasn't there for function or friendship. He was the only modified human Barry had seen here. The Duke had retreated with his _prize experiment_.

Barry fought down the familiar flare of temper to a smoulder, an old battle; weary, but he knew he'd be sorry if he lost it. "Surrender," he said to the Duke, "and we-"

"Barry." Klaus interrupted. "Don't make promises we can't keep."

Barry stopped, jarred. "What did you think I was going to offer him?" They had left the question of what to do with the Duke until they had more information. The unhappy jester and the squidaped threat were evidence of experimenting on his own people. Barry scanned the voice projection system. Pressed a button, frowned, flicked a switch and it was active. One more chance. "Tell your people to surrender. We won't harm them."

Klaus lowered the Duke slightly, although not to the point that he could actually reach anything. The Duke's head came up; he fixed burning eyes on the jester and howled, **"Activate the self-destruct mechanism!"**

Barry pressed the muzzle of the sleep gun to the Duke's head and fired. Then held his breath for a few seconds, listening for any hint of something actually activating. The jester met his eyes and shrugged minutely.

Barry leaned over the projection system. "Sorry about that. This is Barry Heterodyne." His own voice came in distantly from outside. "We have your Duke and his Castle. Unless you particularly want to turn your backs on the Jägers and try to rescue him, I advise you to lay down your weapons _now_."

When he looked up, the jester was bending over one of the guards, checking for a pulse. He straightened, looking more analytical and less unnerved. "He's not dead."

Barry raised his eyebrows. "It's not a death ray. What's your name?"

"Boris Dolokhov." The man glanced down at himself and added, with a bitter twist to his mouth, "I am a librarian," as if daring them to laugh.

"I could use a librarian," Klaus said without batting an eye. There were reasons Barry couldn't stay exasperated with him for very long. "Do you want a new job?"

Boris stared at him as if unsure whether to take this response seriously.

"He means it," Barry said. "I think you'd prefer his library to mine. It doesn't talk back."

"I would very much like nearly any job that does not involve juggling," Boris said, still sounding rather suspicious. "I did not want to be a jester."

"Don't you know any Heterodyne stories?" Klaus asked blandly. "The position of comic relief has been filled."

Barry covered his eyes. "And yes, that is his idea of a joke."

Boris _almost_ smiled.

* * *

The room where the injured Jägers gathered was as much victory party as infirmary. None of them had died, and the most seriously hurt were grinning with gritted teeth as their friends offered drinks, jokes, and congratulations to take their mind off it. Barry didn't keep them waiting long, although he was a tiny island of pensive quiet, politely declining drinks and lightly toasted squid kebabs until he was done and humming to shut out the raucous noise around him as he worked. When this continued past the most serious injuries, however, the silence started to spread a little.

"Hoy," said Maxim, as Barry extracted a squid-claw from his knee. "Hyu dun look happy. Der battle vent pretty good, yah?" He sounded just a touch worried.

Barry blinked at him and tried to shake off the melancholy. He pitched his voice to cut and carry through the room - not a hard task when he suspected nearly everyone in it had just turned an ear their way. "All of you did _great_."

"So vot's wrong?" Maxim asked, head cocked to one side, looking far more concerned about Barry's mood than his own injury.

Barry bit down a flippant answer along the lines of _Klaus didn't tell you I always sulk after battles?_ and said, "It... always bothers me to have people getting hurt on my behalf."

Maxim gave him a completely bewildered look and then looked at the other Jägers as if one of them might know what Barry was talking about. "Ve iz meant to do dot," he said.

"Iz kind ov der point ov haffing an army," Dimo said from somewhere behind Barry.

Barry gave the claw a slight twist and it slid free from the joint. He took a moment to press the heel of his hand against his forehead before flicking the magnifying lenses into position on his goggles and scrutinising the claw to check for missing bits, or anything more solid than blood that it might have snagged on the way out. "Yes, well, I'm not very good at that yet," he muttered. "And I _did_ ask you to take added risks to avoid killing people. Which, again, you did very well." There had been deaths; Barry had made it clear this wasn't an 'at all costs' situation and the Jägers weren't _stupid_. But there hadn't been very many.

Maxim winced, ears twitching slightly because they couldn't really flatten, and then smiled at the praise. "Ve spent three years underground because der Red Heterodyne vanted bat sandviches. Hyu don't got to feel bad about _asking_ for tings."

Barry mostly smothered a laugh and dropped the claw into a specimen tray. Nice to know 'keep your opponents alive where feasible' was at least considered no more unreasonable than 'let's stay in this cavern, I want to eat bats.' It wasn't easy to out-eccentric his relatives. He squeezed an analgesic gel into the wound and pressed a sonic wand to it, analysing the resulting echoes. "Good, no loose bits. Try to take it easy for at least six hours after it closes up." He started wrapping Maxim's knee in a bandage, partly as a reminder that the injury was _there_ even if the pain was gone. "I don't... exactly. It's basically what Bill and I asked of everybody we fought alongside, and I still think it was better to do it this way. You made it _possible_ to do it this way. It still bothers me when you get hurt."

"Ve dun like each odder gettink hurt," said Dimo, squeezing his shoulder now he wasn't half way through fixing Maxim. "But ve like der fightink und der vun goes vit de odder."

Maxim nodded, eyes bright. "Ve'd rather be hurt den left behind."

It was easier to grin and say the blood spilt was worth it when it was _his_ blood, but this was possibly not a sentiment he should really share with the Jägers. It did help to be reminded that this wasn't a case of dragging people into fighting for a cause they didn't believe in. (Which he'd done on occasion, usually with Sparks slightly less recalcitrant than the Duke.) Okay, their interest in the cause was perhaps secondhand, but they wouldn't be Jägers if they weren't willing to fight, or for that matter to take insane risks for the sake of the House of Heterodyne, and they really did want to come.

It was still his responsibility to worry about the risks to them and the cost of victory, but he didn't have any business _moping_ about the cost of victory when the people who'd actually paid it wanted to celebrate. "I'll keep that in mind," he said. "I am immensely proud of all of you, just so you know." Barry drew a deep breath and then grinned at them as he finished cleaning up and moved on to his next patient. "And I'll tell everybody who didn't crowd in here as soon as I've finished up."

* * *

Barry joined Klaus and the Jägergenerals about an hour into the victory party, smelling vaguely of antiseptic. (Given they were surrounded by Jägers and alcohol, Klaus assumed he actually reeked of it.) "Effryvun all right now?" Øsk asked.

"Should be. I want to check on everybody who got a lungful of squid mist again tomorrow morning just to be sure." Barry poured himself a drink and then stood up again, grabbing a skewer of calamari and everyone's attention, and told the Jägers he was proud of them. As he should be at this point, Klaus thought, although if Barry had warned him first he might have put in earplugs.

They eventually left the Jägers to their own devices and ended up back in Klaus's study. "So," Barry said, "what _do_ you want to do with the Duke?"

"Imprison him," said Klaus. "If we give him enough bits and pieces to play with he may not even try to escape very much."

Barry blinked. "That almost sounds like you mean to imprison him in a lab."

"Why not? It would keep him busy and may even be useful," said Klaus. "What did you intend to do with him?"

"I'm not sure I was going to be that nice," Barry said drily. "What on Earth did you think I was going to offer him?"

"...I'm not sure. But you were never particularly ruthless before." Bill and Barry had sometimes decided to reform Sparks by bringing them along - they hadn't had the resources for imprisonment, but between them the Heterodyne Boys had succeeded in being incredibly overwhelming which somehow had almost the same effect. In situations where that hadn't been an option...Klaus had dealt with it. He wondered now what they would have done if he hadn't, or what they'd done on those occasions when he had been elsewhere. He'd always felt oddly like he needed to protect their innocence, as if they weren't powerful Sparks from a long line of warlords and capable adventurers besides.

"Sometimes I'm not sure you realised that actually took effort," Barry muttered. "I was going to say we'd let him live."

"You would have done that regardless," Klaus pointed out.

"He didn't know that. And I lied to Boris." At Klaus's mildly puzzled look, Barry added, "It's a death ray if you turn it up all the way."

"That's not exactly surprising. You and Bill always did have a tendency to add death rays," said Klaus. Including a Death Ray Room at the Great Hospital which had been boarded up by pragmatic but unquestioning Mechanicsburgers as soon as it was built. "Although I always wondered if they were meant to be decorative, since I don't recall you actually using them." Except accidentally a few times, once leading to their building a wall building machine to repair a University Laboratory. They'd managed to track it down again before it turned _much_ of Beetleburg into a maze.

"Well, we tried to avoid having to," Barry said. "Though I suppose some of them were rather pretty."

"The aesthetic appeal of death rays aside," said Klaus, "I don't think I ever considered that you might. I'm sorry I assumed -" Sorry he assumed what? That Barry was more innocent than he actually was? Less practical? "- that you were making promises beyond the obvious without consulting me."

"I probably shouldn't have been promising not to kill him without consulting you either," Barry said, "unless I was going to take him home with me and I'm not entirely sure making him listen to Castle Heterodyne's suggestions would be kinder." Klaus was fairly sure that was a joke, but it didn't quite sound like one.

"You can assume I intend to take prisoners, at least as a first resort," said Klaus. "For future reference."

"Good to know." A wry look. "I did assume it was more of an option now."

"And you don't object to my plans for him?" It was worth checking.

Barry shook his head. "No. And knowing you, Boris won't ever have to look at him again."

"The airship's certainly big enough for me to arrange _that_."

"Certainly true." A minute pause. "How did the casualty rates end up outside the Jägers?"

"For our side or theirs?" Klaus asked, and then shook his head. That had been unfair. "Not any higher than expected. The Jägers took the brunt of it, in the hand-to-hand fighting, a lot of the human combatants on our side were gunners. A higher proportion might have been hurt, but with those tactics we had less on the field to begin with."

Barry tipped his head to one side. "Were you satisfied?"

Klaus sighed. "_They_ were," he said. Protecting Jägers from their Heterodyne - he was insulting them and Barry just thinking it, probably. "I can't complain on grounds of damage to my troops, and the Jägers...did save a lot of lives, in all honesty. On balance I might consider it worth it even if they weren't so happy about it."

"I didn't ask anything of them that we hadn't asked of you," Barry said. "Or any number of other people."

"I know," Klaus admitted. He was the one who had suggested Barry should talk to the Jägers, he'd wanted Barry to accept they wanted to please him. But he'd been thinking it would lead to Barry willingly placing them under his command, not retaining command over half his army and using it. Maybe he was just a little jealous. Especially since Barry's tactics really had worked. "I am satisfied."

Barry nodded. "I _am_ taking you seriously, you know," he said. "I'm... not going to insist on this when it would put us at a serious risk of losing." Although he looked a little pained about it. "And I'm not treating the risk to the Jägers as trivial."

"That's good to know," said Klaus. "I didn't think you were, precisely, the second part at least. You never treated the risk to anyone as trivial."

Barry smiled wryly. "I do try not to. Even when they are having fun."

* * *

She had a letter. From Barry Heterodyne. It wasn't the first one, but there had been few enough that Donna was still delightedly astonished all over again every time. She was also pretty sure she was giddy for more personal reasons than being starstruck.

A courier ship dropped it off just after dawn; she made herself wait until lunchtime to read it, lending gleeful anticipation to her morning's work, and then hung up the hot protective apron and gloves, washed off the sweat, and finally opened and unfolded the letter. At which point Cousin Yvette arrived on her round of lunch delivery. She set down a little loaf of fresh bread from her bakery - scooped open, filled with lentils and chanterelles and drizzled with clarified butter - and then nearly draped herself over Donna's shoulder. "Ooh. A love letter!"

"Get off," Donna said, laughing. "You don't want to meet all your other customers smelling of the forge. And it's not exactly a love letter." At least, it wasn't the sort of sweet nothings Yvette and her husband constantly exchanged when he was travelling. She and Barry were still getting to know each other and had exchanged letters several times now; the topics ranged from news to philosophy, biography, music, literature, and each party's latest scientific or engineering breakthroughs. Sometimes in the same paragraph.

Yvette winked exaggeratedly at her and went her way. Donna rigged a quick system of holders and mirrors so she could read and eat at the same time without risk of smudging the letter, and settled in.

A small principality to the east had begged for help, and Barry and Klaus were taking the Jägers against the Duke who'd attacked it. _He's using land squid,_ Barry wrote, a few pages in, _but I've had a look at them and while they are understandably frightening to their targets, I don't think they'll be any match for either our mechanical squid or the Jägers. It's very easy to lose efficiency when adapting an aquatic form for dry terrain, and harder to make up for it the more you stick to the original biology. I'm more concerned about reaching his capital and what we'll have to do to whatever army he has there._

He wasn't worried about winning, she noted. She doubted he would be if he and Klaus were going alone rather than with the resources of a growing empire and a small army of Jägers. Just about how much damage they'd have to do in the process. Actually, come to think of it - she waggled a small lever to return to the first page of the letter and check its date. Days before - well, it hadn't been an emergency courier! The battle was likely to be done by now.

_By the way, not wanting to take advantage of your good nature, I have taken the liberty of calculating your percentage of the proceeds from the squid factory, to reflect your design and technique contributions. So far the new blades have found little challenge in rock, sticky clay, or heavily armoured clanks._ Donna goggled at the amount (not enclosed: the courier didn't have enough of a reputation yet to risk carrying valuables). She'd counted herself lucky to have a chance at the machines there, let alone the company. She'd have done it for that alone. But she had to admire the care about treating her fairly. And apparently somebody was paying well for squid clanks.

She hadn't made it any farther before Yvette's eldest, Jaya, came racing up. "Cousin Donna! There are Jägers. I bet they're looking for you!"

Donna blinked, chewed, and swallowed a mouthful of bread. "I'll come and be found, then."

There were Jägers, six of them, hanging around the centre of the town. Most people had gone indoors and were nervously peering out from between shutters. The few who hadn't had been cornered and were being asked for directions - although Donna got the impression that if they were being menaced it was purely accidentally.

Yvette herself was one of them, although the Jäger talking to her appeared to be slightly distracted by her lunch deliveries. She peered past him, caught sight of Donna starting purposefully toward them, and pointed.

"I'm Donna DuLac, if you're looking for the blacksmith," Donna said. "What are you all doing here?"

"Ve heard hyu mek nize swords," offered one, red eyed and sharp toothed but otherwise not very inhuman looking.

She scanned the rest of them interestedly. Green, purple, blue with gold fur, hulking grey with ram's-horns, pale with _one_ ram's-horn. He didn't seem bothered by the asymmetry. "I do," Donna agreed, because it was true. But it had been true for quite a while without prompting Jägers to show up with a commission. She put her eyebrows up. "Should I guess you also heard I'm seeing Barry Heterodyne?"

"Dot too!" said the one with a single horn, with a wide grin.

It was a _very_ toothy grin but less alarming than bright-eyed and infectiously cheerful. Donna smiled back at him. "Well, you can all come back to the forge, then, and stop making everybody nervous. If you want to buy lunch from Yvette, I'll show you to the bakery - the meals she's carrying right now are spoken for."

"Lunch vould be good," said the red eyed one.

"Jaya!" Yvette called. "Run ahead and tell everyone to get busy." She smiled politely at the Jägers as her daughter pelted off. "I'll be back myself when I finish my deliveries."

Donna gestured for them to come with her and started off. When she glanced back, people were emerging from their houses and shops, beginning to look curious now that the Jägers were with her. "I'm sorry," she said after a moment, "I didn't ask your names. Who _are_ you?" She couldn't keep identifying them to herself by transformation.

They each gave her a name; Jorgi, Dimo, Maxim, Vali, Fane, and Ognian. "Und ve know who hyu are!" Ognian finished cheerfully before adding, apropos of not very much, "Hyu squid blades are vonderful."

"Thank you," said Donna. Then, "_Oh._ Did you just see them? Were you at the battle?"

That got her a chorus of affirmatives. "Dey vere great," said Maxim. "Beat all der real squid."

"Der real squid didn't haff svords," Dimo clarified. "Just suckers vit needles."

"Vhich vas easier for those ov hyu vit _fur_," Fane rumbled.

"...Ouch," said Donna. Squid with needles? "I imagine it would be hard to teach a real squid swordplay," she added reflectively. "I take it the capital went well too?" She looked at them quizzically. "I had a letter this morning from before the battle. It was a few days old, but you nearly beat it here."

"It vent _great_," said Ognian, with an ear to ear grin. "Ve hardly killed anyvun, just like Master Barry vanted! Und ve left all der buildings still up."

Donna swallowed a sudden and possibly nervous urge to giggle. Probably she shouldn't be picturing the Jägers habitually bringing down buildings bare-handed. "Taking a town and hardly killing anyone sounds very difficult," she said. "He must have been very pleased with that."

She was instantly surrounded by sharp, happy and rather smug smiles. "He vas," said Vali.

"He's gun let us do it again now!" added Maxim.

"Yah, ve don't haff to stay in Mechanicsburg anymore," said Ognian. "Ve gets to fight!"

Donna very nearly asked how often they expected it to come up, then realised it was a silly question. When she considered the wrecked state of the continent, and how many times the Heterodyne Boys had clashed with evil Sparks, and how many _more_ of them people had hoped they'd get to. Although nobody had hoped they'd do it with Jägers, of course. "Between uncooperative Sparks and the stray creations in the Wastelands," she said, "I imagine you'll have a lot of chances." She gestured to the bakery ahead. "And there's Yvette's place."

Forewarned, the rest of Yvette's staff had steeled themselves for the Jägers' arrival and started a lot of extra food, so this went relatively smoothly. Leaving aside their table manners they were polite. They ate a truly astonishing amount of sandwiches, paid for them and even tipped well. They then followed Donna back to the forge where they proved sword shopping hadn't been entirely an excuse by breaking up to look at her wares. Maxim poked at cavalry sabres, Vali at short swords and Ognian at anything that looked interesting. Dimo, passing by her desk, paused for a moment, brows furrowing, and sniffed the air before noticing the letter. He gave it a quick sniff and then passed on with a grin to test the balance of a collection of throwing knives by spinning them between his claws. Jorgi looked more at her work area than the finished weapons, and when he looked up regarded her with the same frank interest he regarded her work.

Fane came up to her and held out his right hand, at least twice as big as a human hand and with only two blunt fingers and a thumb. "Hyu do custom vork?"

"Yes, regularly." He'd need something a little more customised than most, but he had the height and strength to go with the size of his grip, which improved the options. She started to reach for his hand, then checked herself. "May I?"

"Sure ting." A smile, amused and just a bit flirtatious, as he held his hand still for her to inspect.

Donna smiled back, also amused, and began exploring the muscle and bone structure. (The muscle was hard enough she wasn't sure she'd have been able to _find_ the bones if he hadn't completely relaxed his hand for her.) She did less mechanical work than the average Spark - her breakthrough had mostly allowed her to pursue the whole of her fascination with metalworking, although she could appreciate a good design too - and less biology, but hand anatomy was an extension of her interest in weapons and other tools. Fane's fingers seemed to have fused, from four to two; the phalanges were still broad enough from side to side to reflect that. (Ouch, Donna thought. Something similar seemed to have happened to Ognian's feet, actually.) The distal joints allowed slightly increased flexion, and the claws would have to be taken into account for a really comfortable grip...

"All right then," she said, looking up at him and considering rather belatedly that prodding analytically at a Jäger's hand might be something to be nervous about. Then again, it probably wasn't objectively more alarming than Castle Heterodyne trying to set her up on a date. "What kind of sword do you prefer?"

"Arming svord," he said, gesturing to the straight, double-edged blades.

Donna nodded thoughtfully. He could probably wield most longswords one-handed, but there would be structural differences and even the longer hilts would tend to be uncomfortably narrow. Not really satisfactory. "I'd like to see your grip..." She offered him a short steel bar, then almost immediately shook her head and replaced it with a wider one.

Jorgi wandered over to sit at her desk, half watching the process and half fiddling with her mirrored reading device.

Fane wrapped his hand around the bar and tilted his head towards her questioningly.

"That looks about right. How does it feel?" She glanced over at the glint of one of the throwing knives. "Dimo, there are targets out back if you want to test those."

"Preedy goot," said Fane, gripping more firmly and swishing the iron bar through the air with a frown.

"Thanks, dollink," called Dimo, vanishing out the back with a selection of knives fanned in his hand.

"Tell me how they do, I can't put the power behind them that you will," Donna called back, studying how Fane moved. _That_ was it, aside from the length of the fingers there were shifts in the wrist and shoulder movement. There was only so much one changed the basic structure of a sword, but there were a lot of subtleties in the shape of the hilt and blade. She quizzed him on what he was looking for and at last concluded, "All right... I can make you a sword that will feel and handle very nearly like a good standard arming sword from before your transformation."

He grinned at her, pleased and fierce. "How long vill it tek?"

Behind them there was a clatter - Maxim and Ognian had started trying out swords on each other with some playful sparring and Ognian had stumbled into a display rack. From the way Ognian was holding his sword it wasn't his normal weapon and both of them looked sheepish as they picked the rack back up.

"About a week, I think." She eyed the other two. Neither appeared to be bleeding, at least. And if they'd been able to damage any of her work by falling into it, she wouldn't have wanted it going out into the world with her mark on it anyhow. "Should I send you two outside as well?"

"Ve'll be more careful," Maxim said, picking up the knocked over swords. Ognian nodded.

The last people to try a swordfight inside here had been boys, and she had naturally run them right out and had words with their parents about making sure they knew what they were doing. These were obviously grown men, and given the Jägers were supposedly unaging and the Heterodyne Boys had not added to their ranks, they probably had been for a few of her lifetimes. "Well, there is more space there. The display racks will only make a mess," she said drily, "but please, stay away from the fire."

"Ve don't vant to miss anyting," Ognian said cheerfully. "Ve ken stop fighting if hyu like."

"That might be better," she agreed. "Though I'm not sure exactly what you think you'll miss. Did you want to talk, or watch me start on Fane's sword?"

"Hy don't know vot ve'd miss either," said Ognian, looking puzzled for a moment.

Jorgi rolled his eyes at him. "Ve ken talk," he said. "Hyu haffen't sold to Jägers before or ve'd haff heard. Hyu sell to constructs?"

"If they come to me," said Donna, "which I admit isn't very often. I did arm nearly everyone in town when things were particularly bad outside, although I suppose in proportion to the number of Sparks we don't have that _many_ constructs."

"It dun't bother hyu," said Fane, flexing his hand on the table. "Adapting."

"It's an interesting prospect!" Donna gestured, perhaps a little more wildly than necessary. "Most really large blades are for clanks or other machines... and I mean limited-function automatons; I suppose making one for Otilia would be a different matter entirely. Of course it's important to make a high-quality blade that suits the mechanism, but it's not the same set of concerns as dealing with the flexibility demanded by a skilled swordsman and the _feel_ of handling it."

"If hyu come live in Mechanicsburg hyu ken mek a lot of svords for Jägers," said Jorgi, half teasing, genuinely welcoming.

"That _is_ a potential advantage," Donna said cheerfully - also teasing a bit, because it was hardly the main consideration, but she did mean it. "This town does not need nearly as many blades as I want to make."

"Hyu haff family here," said Ognian, poking at things restlessly again now he wasn't fighting. "Vould hyu miss dem?"

"Mm, yes, but I'd plan to keep in touch. I have family from Calcutta to Algiers as it is. Comparatively speaking, Mechanicsburg isn't so far."

"Dot's a lot ov family," said Ognian respectfully and maybe a bit wistfully.

"We have several people very determinedly keeping track," Donna said. "And writing a lot of letters."

"Oggie's family vould be bigger if he didn't do dot," Maxim muttered.

Donna blinked. "Ah, what?"

"Iz such a ting as _too much_ encouragement. Und rilly bad matchmaking," Maxim answered.

"Ah," Donna said. It would probably be kinder toward both Ognian and several of her own relatives if she didn't say she had sometimes felt a little too encouraged herself. Not to mention Barry's opinion of the Castle's intervention, although she wasn't exactly complaining about that one yet. "Yes, I suppose that's possible." Her thoughts veered back to sword design as her eyes fell on the bar Fane was still holding, and she held out a hand for it, drifting over to examine her metal selection.

This was perhaps not entirely the behaviour of a courteous hostess, but Fane wanted a sword and her guests were presumably used to the distractible behaviour of Sparks. They gathered around at a nearly sensible distance and chatted intermittently with her and each other as she began beating the layers together.

It was a little while before Dimo came back in and announced, "Hyu targets haff beeg holes in dem," while putting back some of the knives he'd taken and picking up a few more of the one he'd selected.

Donna had to pause in her hammering and ask him to repeat himself. "I take it I'll need new ones," she said. "But the blades held up well?" She went over to inspect one of the rejected ones, holding the edge up to the light.

"Very well!" said Dimo, putting his selections down on the counter. "Dey ken tek a lot of force."

"Good. Did you use the bone target?" There had been this... thing... a couple of years back, that had eventually been more pried apart than cut and seemed to be internally composed largely of giant knucklebones. She had kept several of them, boiled clean.

"Dot vun haz smaller holes in it."

"_Excellent_. I don't know what its creator did to the bone composition, but I hadn't managed to make a mark on it, even with the ones that go through rock with no trouble."

Dimo smiled at her. "Vell, it vasn't hyu knives dot vere der problem. How much for dem?" He glanced out the window at the sun and added, to Maxim,"Hyu'd better pick vun if hyu iz buying today. Ve still got to get beck."

Donna quoted him a total (discounted a bit for quantity, friendliness, and how long throwing knives tended to sit in the shop). "You're on a short leave? Back to where, by when?"

"Kestle Wulfenbach iz moving over cloze," said Jorgi. "Beck before its out ov range."

Maxim brought a cavalry sabre up to the counter and Fane followed him up, asking, "Hyu vant der money now? Or vhen I pick it up?"

"When you pick it up," she said. "You can decide if you like it first." A quick, mischievous grin. "You will, though."

"Hy don't doubt it," said Fane, smiling back.

They exchanged farewells, and the Jägers left town at a lope, apparently satisfied and managing to look like an impressive horde even with only six of them. Donna tried to decide if she could spot Castle Wulfenbach among the scattered clouds (probably not) and then went to check on her destroyed targets.

And answer her letter.

_Dear Barry,_

_I hear the battle went well…._


	13. In Which There is a Meeting of Muses

Otilia made good on her promise to let Tarvek study her, taking him back to her own room after class one day. Somehow it was surprising she had her own room, even though it wasn't as if she would be shut down when she wasn't teaching them like an off duty clank. There wasn't a bed or a bathroom, but there were chairs with books by them and a sink in the corner with both soap and polish resting on its rim.

Otilia sat down in an armchair and lifted him gently onto her lap. "For now you can look at what is visible without removing anything," she told him. "I wouldn't trust far older Sparks than you to open my casing carefully enough."

Tarvek nodded and spent some time inspecting the intricate joints of her hands with a magnifying glass, and trying not to wish he _could_ open her up just a little. He'd be very very careful, he wouldn't even _touch_. "I don't think any of the students could hurt you doing this," he said.

"I am their teacher, not an object of study," she said quietly. "Would you wish to be regarded as a biology specimen by people whose respect you needed? I would sooner be listened to than marvelled at."

Tarvek looked away from her, still holding his magnifying glass. "I'm not.…"

She surprised him by putting the arm he hadn't been studying around his shoulders. "You are a little. You are a Spark, after all. But you were dreaming of reuniting us, not copying us."

Tarvek risked a glance up at her and found that she was smiling at him. It was not entirely a happy smile, wistful and bitter, but it looked genuine and he didn't think she was sad because of him. "I can stop if you don't like it," he said, anyway, leaning into her. She was slightly cold, the way she always was, and very lightly vibrating, and somehow comforting anyway.

"The fact that you say things like that is why I let you do this in the first place. And why I don't mind continuing," she answered.

"I do know you're a person," Tarvek murmured, not entirely sure whether he wanted to resume studying just yet or stay where he was a bit longer. He wouldn't have expected a Muse to hug people, but it was nice.

"Then you're smarter than a great many Sparks have been."

* * *

It had been right about... here.

In the eerie blue light of the Great Movement Chamber, Barry tapped a toe thoughtfully on the bank of the Dyne. It ran clear and dark now, beyond the glowing foam at the water wheel. But this was where the energy had faded out even _without_ the Castle's equipment.

Of course, Castle Heterodyne had not been quite in its right mind at that point. Such as it was. "I suppose I should at least try the easy way," Barry said aloud. "Castle, are you aware of any equipment to drain energy off the Dyne _downstream_ from your main collectors?"

"No," said the Castle. "As far as I am aware my collectors being disabled should have had a most interesting effect on the town."

"Probably immediate enough that I should have noticed even by the time we got back," Barry said wryly. Bill, he wasn't so sure about. At that point Bill might very well have missed the river boiling blue and fish climbing onto the banks to bite people. But Barry was pretty sure nothing of the sort had been going on. "Well. So much for the easy way." He clamped a cable firmly to the floor, shrugged into the harness, and eased himself feet-first into the Dyne.

The current tugged strongly enough to make him glad of the harness. The water was disconcertingly warm and tingled when it soaked through to his skin. Barry paused for a moment, getting used to the feeling, and then fixed his goggles firmly in place and dived.

The first thing he noticed from underwater was that the river channel had been carved. Most of the signs were worn away by centuries of flowing water, of course, but the stone was hard enough that he could tell the original shape was not quite natural. _That_ must have been exciting. Less so if old Egregious had arranged this as part of the preparations.

Barry worked his way gradually upstream through turbulent water until his headlamp's beam glinted back at him, brass-bright. He surfaced, inhaled, and plunged back under to explore properly.

An intricate band of flat circuits - waterproofed, naturally - spanned nearly half a meter and appeared to have sunk into the surface of the stone. A curious glitter hung in the water over the same band. The whole thing was clearly inspired by Faustus's work, but not a direct development of it. It was intricate, fascinating, and did not notably answer most of Barry's questions.

He hauled himself out of the water and let his feet dangle in it, leaning back on his hands. "Found it," he said. "Now the question is where the energy goes."

"Do let me know when you find that out," the Castle said.

"It can't be anything that doesn't get along without it," Barry mused. There hadn't been any obvious problems from _not_ having the collector active. But where it could go that the Castle couldn't trace it….

Barry jumped up and barely dried his feet before reaching for his socks. He knew it didn't lead to the hospital. But there was one other place in Mechanicsburg that the Castle couldn't see.

On the way to the Cathedral, Barry noticed he'd acquired a Jäger shadow. "Maxim."

Maxim stopped trailing him and loped a few steps to catch up, flashing a smile at Barry as he did. "Hyu iz in a hurry?" he asked, apparently unabashed.

"I suppose there isn't really that much of a rush," Barry admitted, but didn't exactly slow down. "You remember I was wondering what happened to the Dyne energy when the Castle wasn't using it?"

"Hyu found it?"

"Sort of. It must go to the Cathedral," this was not strictly true, but Barry didn't feel like qualifying it, "but it's certainly not the main power source."

"Huh." Maxim looked at the tower of the Cathedral, frowning. "Schneaky, den, if der Kestle didn't know."

"Yes. And it wouldn't get any energy flow at all unless the Castle's ability to collect it was compromised. An odd set-up all around."

"Ve go und look?" Maxim asked. Apparently Barry acknowledging he was being followed had counted as an invitation.

"Yes." A swift grin. "I can use somebody to think aloud at. I can't physically follow the whole course without digging it all up, which seems like a shame if it turns out to be something useful for more than keeping the Dyne halfway tamed, but either Dr. Yglyn or the Crypt Keepers may know something."

The air in the shade of the Cathedral was cool, uncomfortable when Barry's clothing was still wet but he was too interested in the question to really care. Inside, Yglyn - somewhat to Barry's surprise - brightened upon being asked about high-energy installations and took him immediately downstairs to a large room with one ornately carved wall.

"Well, I must be going now!" the curate chirped. "Enjoy!"

Maxim was definitely frowning now, he looked at the door they'd come through, and then suspiciously back at the wall, before moving closer to Barry.

Barry ran a hand across the carved wall, humming quietly. "Is something the matter?"

"Hy dunno." Maxim shook his head. "It voz a long time ago, und Hy thott ve voz jest mistaken, but dere voz a time der Goot Heterodyne kem in here vit Prince Vadim. Ven der Cathedral voz new." He paced over to the carved wall himself, running a claw over it. "Ve voz locked out und ve couldn't hear him. Vit only him und still looking for Euphrosynia ve voz on edge, ve thott something voz wrong but he voz fine..."

"Hmm." Barry cut off the thinking-noise before it turned into a real hum again, his attention split between the technical question and Maxim's two-century-old worry. "That's... odd. The walls aren't _that_ thick." Gradok had still been rather young when the Red Cathedral was completed. It had gone up fast; the Castle couldn't have been _interfering_, even if Barry couldn't imagine it had been happy about an area it couldn't reach. "Gradok, what were you up to?" he murmured, then slid his hand across stone again and felt his way into a nook almost hidden in the design. The wall opened, part of it folding out and downward, and Barry stepped aside, grinning as brilliant green light poured from the cracks.

Maxim stepped back quickly, blinking. "Vot?"

"I don't know what it is yet," Barry said cheerfully, "but I think we found it."

"If dere voz someting..." Maxim came over to Barry's side sharply. "Don't hyu vanish."

"I'll try to avoid that." The light was concentrated in something that looked like a rectangular slab, but there was something eye-twisting about the shape that played tricks with the perspective. Barry tore his gaze away from it to look at Maxim. "Whatever it is, Gradok _was_ fine," he added, as a reminder. There was no way this was just built to dampen sound, though.

Maxim nodded, still looking a little dubious. "Vot iz hyu goink to do vit it?" he asked.

"Identify it, first..." Several more controls were revealed in the green light, and the mechanisms were not exactly obvious in their function but looked like they were meant for efficient use. At least it wasn't a panel of screws; Gradok had clearly put some thought into this control system. "It can't have been completely unpowered the rest of the time, but what would Gradok have wanted to _boost_ if the Castle was down?" Or not down - the Castle had considerable stored energy, under normal circumstances, and Gradok had installed the lightning collectors. Did it ever stop drawing off the Dyne?

"Hy dunno. Vhen he made it der Kestle voz der problem." Maxim followed, watching Barry more than the controls. Whatever it was he didn't expect to be able to learn anything from it. "It voz," he waved a hand, "krezy overprotective, hyu know?"

"I'm a little surprised Bill and I made it to Beetleburg," Barry muttered. A refuge from the Castle. An... _escape_ from the Castle? Or an escape from Mechanicsburg if it was damaged? He took a step back, studying the slab of light, squinting through it at the controls, putting the principles together. "It's a portal," he said suddenly. "It's-" Designed to be worked on by a skinny teenager, apparently. He walked carefully around the light in a semicircle to avoid both where it appeared to be and where it _might_ be and pried off a panel that had looked almost like part of the solid stone.

"He really _voz_ gone." Maxim followed, not quite as careful but not entirely careless around this either. "To Sturmhalten?"

Barry turned to look at him. It could take hours to confirm that by studying the unlabelled mechanisms, but there was no point overlooking the obvious. "With Prince Vadim. Right." He frowned. "That... about halfway makes sense. Everything connects to Vadim and Sturmhalten, but a portal from Mechanicsburg into one of the fortresses meant to contain it? That seems like a fairly bizarre risk on both sides."

"Dey vere keeds, und both scared," said Maxim with a shrug. "Dot family voz alvays preedy mean und schneaky to dere own."

Barry's mind went involuntarily to Aaronev Wilhelm's very courteous offer of his son as a hostage, as if this were the natural way to propose an alliance with someone running a school. And the previous Prince Aaronev's expression on catching his son and a pair of Heterodynes where they apparently hadn't been meant to be. Heterodynes were historically horrible to everyone _else_, but the worst Barry's own father had done to his sons was try to raise them to be like himself and he'd started that too late.

Kids, and both scared, more of their own towns than the boy who'd been on the other side of the war. As a military and political strategy, an undefended portal between Mechanicsburg and Sturmhalten was madness, and not the usual kind. As a secret way out of a situation that might at any moment become impossible... "They were closer friends than I realised."

"Dey vere. Dey met five - mebbe six - years before der Cathedral voz built. Gradok voz twelve, Vadim a few years older. Dere fathers died in der same battle, chust before." Maxim broke off for a moment, lavender eyes wide with painful memories of his own, and then shook his head. "Ven Vadim offered him food Gradok ate, ve had all tried..." A lopsided smile, one fang poking over a lip. "Dey voz goot keeds."

Barry closed his own eyes for a moment. Yes. It hadn't been quite the same after their parents - they'd had each other, and they'd flung themselves into everything their father hadn't allowed. But there were times during those last few years that he'd have done a great deal for someone who could get Bill to look after himself. Let alone smile. "Sounds like it," he said, a little hoarsely, then cleared his throat.

Maxim looked sympathetic. "Voz a long time ago," he said. He looked up again at the shining panel. "Hy dun tink dey ever used dis."

"Just tested it." Barry looked at the controls again. Those were _adjustable_. Curious. "But I can see where it would have been reassuring, to them if not particularly to anybody else. I wonder if _Aaronev_ still knows about this?"

Maxim snorted. "Hy hope not."

"Hah. So do I." Barry took out his waterproof notepad, flipped past the diagrams from the river, and began sketching the portal workings. "I think I'll put up a few traps in here."

Maxim grinned, happy and vicious. "Dot sounds goot."

"If I _catch_ anybody, I'm going to have a lot of questions. Come to think of it, I have a lot of questions for the Cathedral personnel already." Barry looked at the slab of light a little wistfully, then stepped back and closed it up. He would not go through just to see what it was like and whether Aaronev had any interesting traps on the other side. That would just be silly.

* * *

There was a Heterodyne show in town. This was unremarkable; it hadn't been rare before, and they'd been coming through even more frequently since Barry got back. He was mostly working around them and not paying too much attention. It had been fun for everybody once in a while if he and Bill paid a surprise visit to one - sometimes with Lucrezia, because the shows had really taken off once Lucrezia started travelling with them - but that had been when Bill was alive and Lucrezia wasn't the Other, not that Barry was about to tell them _that_. Anyway, the shows had always done better by restricting their engagement with reality to a metaphorical peck on the lips.

So Barry was surprised for more than one reason to receive a note that Master Payne of the Circus of Adventure 'requested an audience with the Lord Heterodyne, at his earliest convenience.'

Somewhat bemused, he waited until the shows were over for the night and everyone was cleaning up, then strolled quietly into the camp and headed for the starry-coated magician calling out directions. "Master Payne, I gather?" He grinned as the magician started and turned. "Barry Heterodyne. I got your message. Was that an attack of excessive formality or a pun?"

"That depends." Payne recovered and bowed with a flourish. "How do you feel about puns, my lord?"

"This one I don't know about. I'm not used to being a solo act." Barry almost managed to say it lightly, then shook his head. "Why did you want to see me?"

Payne inhaled slowly. "We heard that you and Baron Wulfenbach had found and repaired the Muse Otilia."

That wasn't surprising. Beetle's enthusiasm had likely propelled the news well into Asia by this point, in spite of the rulers who'd interdicted all travel and transport from wasp-infested regions. "Yes." Barry regarded him quizzically. "Did you want to meet her? You must have heard as well that she's still in his employ aboard Castle Wulfenbach."

Payne grimaced a bit sheepishly. "You are a little more accessible. And on our route. Two of my company very specifically asked to see you. They are, well - perhaps you'd better see for yourself."

Barry raised his eyebrows. Anything that could tongue-tie a showman like this... "Lead on, then."

Payne brought him to a wagon and opened it up. Nothing moved, but in the shadows there were two fleur-de-lis marked clanks. Barry studied them for a moment: one unequipped, one permanently seated, with a game board. Unusually accurate, if they were fakes. But Payne wouldn't have made such a fuss over fake Muses. There was nobody hiding in here. Barry bowed shallowly to them. "Tinka and Moxana?"

They turned towards him. Tinka, standing, was considerably shorter than Otilia and somehow projected a doll-like delicacy despite her steel casing, and was smiling at him, wide glass eyes hopeful. Moxana, beside her, was more inscrutable, fixing expressionless eyes on him as she drew out a card and held it up. The Aegis.

Barry couldn't help feeling this was a bit like having Punch - Adam, rather - act as spokesman for the group. Which _had_ happened occasionally. The obvious interpretation was either the Muse of Protection or that they were asking for _his_ protection, and as far as he could read either of them they didn't seem fearful. "Your sister Otilia is on Castle Wulfenbach," he said. "If you can stay for a few days-" He glanced at Master Payne. "Then I have no doubt she'd be glad to see you."

Tinka looked at Master Payne as well. "We will stay," she said. "Will you wait for us?"

"Of course," Payne said, sounding startled and rather touched. Then he glanced at Barry. "If we're permitted, of course."

"Are you planning to do something to get yourselves thrown out of town?" asked Barry. "Otherwise I don't think it will be a problem." A swift grin. "I should mention, unless I tell him you're in a tearing hurry Klaus will probably just bring the whole Castle."

"We can wait," said Tinka, but she looked concerned, smooth metal face somehow drawing into a frown.

Barry glanced between them. "Is there a problem?"

Moxana held up two cards, more to Tinka than him, the Aegis again, this time half covering the Page of Wands.

"He will not want to let her go," said Tinka.

"He's not holding her prisoner," Barry said.

The Muses looked at one another, this time without either cards or words. "Then it will be for us to solve," said Tinka.

* * *

By the time the gossip that they were on their way to meet another two Muses reached the classroom, Tarvek, Agatha and Gil had already known about it for almost a week. Agatha and Gil considered that if adults didn't want them to eavesdrop they should tell them more things. Neither of them knew about the notes Tarvek carefully took and then encoded in his letters home; the Baron was working with Agatha's uncle and he wasn't sure how she'd react. He'd been watching Otilia avidly ever since they'd heard, wondering whether she was excited or happy and unable to tell. _He_ was excited. Would the reunion happen somewhere they would be allowed to watch? Somewhere they could watch even if it wasn't allowed? Gil had laughed at him for being the one to suggest breaking the rules for once, but would find a way to do it if there was one.

Otilia herself informed them the morning they reached Mechanicsburg, although clearly without any illusions that she was telling them something new. "Two of my sisters, Tinka and Moxana, have been found and will be visiting today. I intend to bring them here to meet you, and I expect you to treat them with respect." Tarvek sat up straighter, practically quivering. They were going to be brought here, where he could see them without any sneaking around at all. Agatha and Gil both shot him quick grins. "In the meantime we will continue with our normal lessons."

The Muses arrived in the late morning, Tinka pushing Moxana's chair. Tinka took a moment to park Moxana where she could see both the room and Otilia and then ran across the room, the light fluttering run Tarvek had seen ballerinas use on stage, and threw her arms around Otilia's neck. Otilia gently folded one silken wing around her and the two of them stayed like that for a moment. It was a beautiful image, the two Muses perfectly, inhumanly, still like a posed statue of sisterly affection.

They fitted together, but in another way they didn't, and as they drew back to regard each other Tarvek found himself looking between the two Muses. Otilia was wearing plain dove grey muslin, Tinka a peasant blouse and full skirt, dyed with cheap, bright colours. They both looked a world away from the rich silk court gowns he'd seen in illustrations; they looked a world away from each other, and that seemed wrong. They had been made as a matched set, they should _be_ a matched set. Right now they were looking at each other, gazes considering but soft. Tinka looked... at home, in these clothes, with the life they implied among the circus folk who had found her, as Otilia was at home with Tarvek and the other children. It was so _strange_.

"It is good to see you both again," Otilia said, fanning her wings behind her again. "I had not thought to. I had feared..." She trailed off. It didn't really need saying to be understood.

"We never expected to see you again, either," said Tinka. Moxana looked up and reached out a hand towards Otilia, beckoning her over since she was unable to go to her. Unable even to smile at her rather than simply widening her eyes a little.

Otilia went, taking Moxana's hands, her own eyes shining green. "How did you come to be with a - a travelling show? Have you spoken with the Baron about teaching here? I have no doubt he'd arrange it."

"A lot of circuses have fake Muses," said Tinka, following her. "We were hiding with them. Master Payne found us after the last one we travelled with ran into trouble. He understands." She put a hand gently on Otilia's shoulder. "We have been happy there. We travel, we perform and inspire. I thought you would come with us."

"With a circus," Otilia said, sounding rather incredulous. "Tinka, I guard and teach the heirs of Europa here. I have the Heterodyne Girl here. I-" She looked at Moxana. "I had not thought to _leave_."

Moxana let go of her hands and held up three cards together, the Device, Movement and the Aegis, then laid them face down, still together, and spread her hands.

"I wanted us to be together too," said Tinka. "But the _Baron_." She stopped and turned her head to scan the children, as if realising they were present and listening, her gaze pausing briefly on Agatha. Moxana did the same, looking at Agatha with dark eyes before moving on to the rest of the students. But for a moment Tarvek thought her eyes had paused on _Gil_. Neither of them noticed Tarvek - which was only to be expected, the Muses could predict things with remarkable accuracy but they needed something to work with. All the same he wished they had, that he could tell them somehow. Surely if they had a Storm King it would be enough to keep them together?

"What of the Baron?" Otilia demanded, sounding a little defensive. "He is trying to bring stability after the chaos the Other created."

"Europa was not his to inherit," said Tinka. "If we find the one it should belong to, you know we would have to work against him. Why work with him now?"

Tarvek caught himself holding his breath and tried to let it out and inhale without drawing attention. He probably needn't have worried. The arguing Muses had everybody's attention riveted.

Otilia's eyes flared green again. "If there is a Storm King, let him claim us. I am following his last command to me."

Tinka's eyes found Agatha again and she nodded slowly, as if accepting that. "What would I do here, though? Teach them to dance? I can fulfil my purpose better travelling. And even if you must serve the Baron for now, I don't wish to."

Otilia bowed her head, which somehow only emphasised the way she towered over Tinka - let alone the seated Moxana. "I do not wish to be parted from you again," she said. The pain in her voice made Tarvek want to run out and tell them, or failing that, curl up somewhere and hide. "But I have work here. I - I would not wish to leave my charges, even were there no Heterodyne Girl."

Tarvek couldn't look at her and he couldn't look away from them and he knew he absolutely must not do anything as strange as run away. He found himself looking at Moxana, silent and strangely serene, and she looked up and met his eyes, flicked through her cards and held up XVII, and turned it to face him. Peace: a woman with a star on her forehead gazed over her shoulder at one that gleamed in the distant sky, and rivers and the bounty of the earth flowed from her hands.

"But must you serve the Baron? And the Lord Heterodyne, even if he is very different from the previous ones?" said Tinka.

Tarvek heard a quiet indignant huff from Agatha, but she didn't interrupt. He was sort of relieved. Mostly.

Otilia closed her eyes and tipped her head back. "Lucrezia Mongfish moved my mind into an organic body of her own making, subject to her commands," she said, the words as bare and cold as long-shadowed steel. "After I failed the charge she gave me, I could not think, I could only rage and weep and tear. I think you will not understand this. I would not, until I felt it. It was like breaking. The Baron spoke to me as if I could still function. He gave me - these children to guard. And when he and the Lord Heterodyne learned what Lucrezia had done, they restored me, and asked me what I _wanted_ to do."

Tinka went still, eyes wide and for a moment there was a sheen of blue behind them like the green glow that sometimes showed in Otilia's. "I'm sorry." She bowed her head. "We have been running and hiding for a long time, but we were never caught to be broken or experimented on. And Master Payne has protected us."

Moxana caught Otilia's hand and squeezed it, metal on unyielding metal.

Otilia's arm quivered, but her hand closed around Moxana's and she smiled faintly. "Then I can only be grateful to your Master Payne," she said to Tinka. "I am glad beyond measure that you are safe and unharmed. And perhaps I should understand better why you would want to stay with a common circus."

Tinka tilted her head to one side in a way that made her look oddly young. "I should be grateful to your Baron too. I _am_, that he helped you. Perhaps, even if we don't stay together all the time now, we can still see each other? We travel through Mechanicsburg regularly and the Lord Heterodyne is there, the Baron must visit."

"He does!" Agatha called, having apparently reached the limit of her ability to stay out of things.

Otilia glanced toward her, tolerantly amused. "That is true." She turned back and took Tinka's hand as well. "It seems very strange to choose to be parted. But I believe they would make it as easy as possible for us to meet."

"And what of you?" Tinka asked Moxana, sounding nervous about the answer.

Moxana drew one of Tinka's hands and one of Otilia's down to lie palm up on top of her own, then gently closed their hands, opening them to reveal the Device card in Tinka's hand. Before they could respond she closed their hands again and this time when they opened the card was in Otilia's.

Tarvek caught his breath. Otilia stilled for a moment and then smiled. "That, too, they will gladly help arrange." And then she almost sounded like she wanted to _laugh_. "But you must not play games with my students when they have other lessons."

Moxana put away the cards, rather abruptly, and her mechanisms shifted with startling speed to display more games than Tarvek could follow, all in a row, ending with a simple board of alternating squares and the pieces for a dozen different games patterned on it. Then just as swiftly they vanished, leaving the plain green mat and the fanned Tarot, all face down.

The Muses teased each other. Tarvek thought, maybe, finding that out was a treasure all its own.

* * *

Gil had a wonderful afternoon. They _did_ all get to play games with Moxana - he was actually good at most of them - and dance with Tinka, who didn't really seem to mind them even if she wasn't staying at all, and showed them everything from ballet poses to lively dances that whirled fast enough Gil finally found out what it was like to be so dizzy the room seemed to be turning around you while you held still. And his secret fear that Otilia would leave to be with her sisters _didn't happen_.

So he was a little surprised that after the other Muses left them for now and he and Agatha and Tarvek clustered together for free time, Tarvek threw himself full-length on the floor and clutched at his hair. "That was _awful_," Tarvek moaned.

"I thought it was fun," Gil said, confused.

"Not that part. The _first_ part."

"Why?" Agatha flopped down so she could peer into Tarvek's face and propped herself up on her elbows. "They decided something good."

Tarvek looked at her doubtfully. "They were _arguing_," he explained.

Agatha, looking a little confused herself, patted his arm. "But they stopped."

"But - they're _Muses_," said Tarvek. "They were... they were made to be together."

"But you wouldn't have wanted Otilia to go off with them," said Gil, sitting down next to Agatha.

"Well - no, of course not." Tarvek buried his head in his arms for a moment. "It still just feels wrong."

"At least they're all happy?" suggested Gil.

Tarvek sighed and lifted his head, then un-flopped and sat up. "I guess so. I hope so? It's just so _weird_."

Gil shrugged. He'd read the accounts of the Muses in the history books and after phrases such as "at times the mimicry of emotion was so fine it seemed almost real" had decided that no one had known much about Otilia _then_ and she'd probably changed since anyway. "It's not like the history books are that good," he said. "They're adults, so they can figure out what they want for themselves."

Tarvek looked a little startled by what Gil had thought was a fairly obvious point. "I'm not sure a lot of adults are very good at that..."

"Aren't the Muses supposed to be good at deciding things?" Agatha asked.

Tarvek blinked. "I don't know. They were supposed to give advice, but not too directly."

Agatha frowned. "Madame Otilia is pretty direct."

"Moxana _can't_ give advice directly," said Gil. "Unless she writes it down. Why did she get made without a mouth?"

"I don't know," Tarvek said, successfully distracted. "I should certainly think she could write, though."

"I asked why she doesn't write!" Agatha said. "She showed me the Chaos card and Tinka said she's even more cryptic in words."

"So even if she could talk she'd probably say really weird things?" said Gil, intrigued.

"Maybe," said Agatha.

"That's interesting," Tarvek said. "Her thoughts must be really complicated." He leaned closer to them, looking uncertain, and then said in a rush, "I think she tried to make me feel better," and immediately blushed so hard Gil could practically see individual capillaries.

"When?" Gil asked, leaning in a bit as well.

Tarvek ducked his head. "The Peace card. They call it the Star in regular decks?" He glanced up and met the gazes of two children who were not as familiar with Tarot decks as he apparently was. "It's - it means rest and guidance and hope for sometime in the future when everything's going to be okay."

"Oh." Gil thought about that for a moment. "You think she was telling you they'd stop arguing soon?"

"Maybe. Or... or just that it would come out all right and not to worry about it so much." Tarvek put his chin in his hands again. "I guess it did, like you said. If they're all happy."

"It was nice of her to tell you," said Gil. Moxana was nice, even if she was a lot harder to understand than Otilia. Literally. "You should teach us about the cards so she can talk to us if she's going to be staying."

"Okay." Tarvek looked happy about that. "I think she's using the Queen's Tarot. Albia's supposed to have designed it herself and it's kind of dangerous, but she seems fine. We should probably only study one card at a time just in case."

"Cards can be dangerous?" said Agatha, looking more curious than concerned about it.

"Well, yes. Albia's a _very_ strong Spark, you know."

Gil tried to imagine Agatha - who was definitely going to be a strong Spark one day - designing dangerous cards. It was surprisingly easy.

* * *

Klaus came down to see the circus off, along with Otilia who was, to his surprise and delight, staying, and Moxana, who was, to his even greater surprise, planning on spending time with each and was starting with Otilia whom she hadn't seen for two centuries.

Off to one side Otilia was telling Tinka to be careful and he caught Tinka's response of, "I have been doing this for two hundred years," while Barry was arranging the next time Master Payne would visit Mechanicsburg with him.

"Now, we realise," Barry said to Payne, "that while most people probably wouldn't believe this situation if you told them - come to think of it they might be less likely to believe it if you do tell them -" The two of them shared a grin at this. "-There's still _some_ increased risk to both you and the Muses introduced by Moxana's going back and forth and being publicly known when she's on Castle Wulfenbach."

Payne rubbed the back of his neck. "It does help considerably that she'll be making the transfers in a place we regularly stop, and you're being surprisingly subtle, but... yes, you make a fair point. I take it you're about to offer a recommendation?"

"I've developed an emergency beacon," said Klaus, resisting the urge to say something indignant about _surprisingly subtle_. What was Payne expecting, an outbreak of pageantry? He offered the circus master a fist-sized black globe with recessed controls and an extendable antenna. "The red button will activate a radio signal. If you encounter a situation you can't handle, use this, and my forces will come to assist you as soon as possible." Drily, he added, "I do not expect you to abuse it. I doubt you're that eager to see me."

Payne blinked. "Ah... thank you, Herr Baron." He gave the device an uncertain look. "Is it likely to do anything else?"

"It's not going to explode," Barry said patiently. "He's very good about that."

"It won't do anything unless you switch it on," said Klaus.

"Reassuring," Payne said politely. He accepted the beacon, although he did look a bit as if Klaus were handing him a snake or perhaps a poisonous frog. "We appreciate your offer of assistance."

"Otilia just got her sisters back," said Barry. "We would hate for her to lose them again, or for them to lose friends. Be well."

Tinka hugged Otilia and Moxana tightly, and then those who were staying got out of the way and watched as the circus finished packing up and set off for the next town. Something about the circus's equipment and a few of the performers itched at Klaus's mind, and he half wished he'd made time to attend a show and see whether he could spot a minor Spark in the group. Perhaps some other time.

As the circus left Mechanicsburg for points north, Barry joined Klaus and the Muses on a small airship heading back to Castle Wulfenbach, which would probably thrill all the students and certainly would delight Agatha.

"Not that we want anybody else losing friends or siblings either, of course," Barry said ruefully, gazing out the airship window, "but we can't be everywhere."

"No," said Klaus, considering possibilities. "Although handing out beacons to trustworthy travellers would be one way of being alerted to problem areas. Getting there is another matter, of course."

"Yes." Barry grimaced. "Too bad Lucrezia didn't leave any of the one-way portals she'd been working on lying around. Although maybe I can reverse-engineer something. It turns out Gradok had one, although it seems to require equipment on each end."

"Gradok had a portal? Specifically him and not any of the Heterodynes _following_ him?" said Klaus.

Barry smiled wryly. "We do misplace secrets now and then, and this one seems to have been rather closely guarded, which is probably just as well. It serves as a secondary power sink if anything happens to the Castle - that's where the Dyne energy was going - and it opens in Sturmhalten."

Klaus's eyebrows went up. "And it's two-sided? Does Aaronev know?"

"I have no idea and I'm hardly going to _ask_ him! If he does, he's been keeping it pretty firmly under his hat. I've trapped the room it's in just in case."

"Good plan," said Klaus. "But why is it there? Isn't that a huge liability for both sides?"

"Yes," said Barry. "But apparently Gradok and Prince Vadim trusted each other with it as a potential escape route from, respectively, a rather overwrought Castle Heterodyne or Vadim's assorted relatives. Which might account for neither of them spreading the information around much."

So, in the midst of political chaos, they'd trusted each other enough for that. "It's in the Cathedral?" he said. It was barely a question, given the bet it had been built on that would have to have been their cover.

"Yes. Not one of the Castle's secrets, this one." Barry shook his head. "Really not something I'd have expected. Even more on Vadim's side - I mean, my father used to open the gates for armies that were actually _there_; it's almost worse for invaders to make it inside the walls than not. But it makes more sense if they were thinking of each other as friends who might need help."

"Yes. Very much a personal alliance and not a political one." Klaus thought of the school, where Aaronev's son was currently inseparable from Agatha and Gil. Goodness knew what would come of that once they were old enough for it to make a difference - Klaus had to admit he was a bit uneasy, given how callous that family could be even towards its own. He'd been friends with Aaronev, once, but he'd never trusted him the way he did Bill or Barry. Vadim and Gradok, children of the politically backstabbing Sturmvorauses and one of the most terrifying families of Sparks in Europe, had not only trusted each other but apparently come through without either betraying that trust. "Aaronev's son is with Agatha and Gil nearly all the time," he added, out loud, not quite sure whether it followed from the conversation or not.

"Agatha talks about the boys practically as a unit sometimes," Barry said. "I would guess Aaronev gave Tarvek instructions to be on good terms with Agatha - he already suggested a betrothal, I'm not joking - but I think it's gone rather beyond that."

Klaus sighed. Historically betrothals could take place almost as soon as a child was born, but he felt it was hard on the children. Castle Heterodyne suggesting it was less disconcerting simply because no one expected anything else from it. "First a hostage, now a fiancé," he said. Not that it was unusual for nobles to eagerly offer their children up for political gain. "And I think it has."

"I told him Tarvek would surely be a fine consort but our alliance didn't require him to commit to anything like that so early," said Barry. "Which may discourage Aaronev from arranging anything _else_ before they're all old enough to do their own courting."

Klaus wondered whether Aaronev had intended it to be that way around - normally the wife would be the consort, but with Heterodynes of course the Heterodyne was the ruler - but suspected Aaronev would want to keep the option open either way. "Or at least until they're old enough to have _some_ say in it."

"Somehow I don't think Agatha would appreciate my making any promises about that on her behalf," Barry said, sounding amused. "Do you have plans for Gil?"

"Certainly not yet," said Klaus. He tried to imagine Agatha's reaction if someone told her she was betrothed. "Has anyone ever successfully arranged a marriage for a Heterodyne? Outside of Opera?"

"Uh..." Barry shook his head after a moment. "You might have to ask the Castle about that one. There have been enough Heterodynes in alliance marriages that some of them might have been going along with their fathers' pick over shared practical concerns, but I'd be surprised by anything like Reichenbach's version."

Klaus snorted. "I'm fairly sure you are the most accommodating Heterodyne who has ever existed, and I can't imagine you acting like the wilting flower Reichenbach created."

Barry started laughing. "Oh, I don't know about wilting. Reichenbach's Euphrosynia falls in love with somebody else at her own wedding, and you notice once he kidnaps her, Ogglespoon is never seen again either."


	14. In Which Spiders Sell Silk for Swords

"Miss DuLac has just entered by the town's northern gate," said Castle Heterodyne.

Barry put down his wrench and the lamp he'd been tinkering with, and pushed back his goggles. "I didn't realise you were watching for her." Possibly this should have occurred to him.

"Of course I was watching for her," said the Castle.

Barry had a vague feeling he should discourage this sort of thing, but he couldn't honestly say he was sorry to know. And for that matter the Castle really was supposed to be watching the incoming traffic in case of anybody who might secretly be Lucrezia. "I'll just go meet her, then."

"You do that," said the Castle.

It sounded just a little bit smug. For once he didn't actually mind.

Donna hadn't made it very far into town by the time Barry reached her, because she was on foot and he cheated. She was also looking around her with interest and rather heavily laden. "Donna," he said, coming up beside her. "The Castle said you were here. I'm glad you came."

"Barry!" She jumped a little, then smiled at him and let go of her hand-cart to take his hands. "I said I would. And I wondered if it was going to when all the gargoyles waved."

He couldn't help laughing at that and then leaned in to kiss her lightly. Their dating relationship had so far consisted mostly of Spark-work and a lot of letters, but she looked so bright-eyed it seemed like the next natural thing to do. "It's good to see you, but why on Earth are you carrying a sword as tall as you are? Can you actually use that?" It was in a back harness, which made it only moderately less awkward to manage.

"Hah. Not well, but it helps discourage brigands anyway."

"Ah. Yes, we're working on that," he said ruefully, "but clearing out stray inventions tends to make things safer about equally for legitimate travellers and robbers at first. Though Mechanicsburg _is_ a rich source of strategic information about brigandage."

Donna snickered. "On a not unrelated note, the sword is ultimately for one of your Jägers. I expect Fane's still on duty, but I thought I might as well bring it along."

Barry blinked. That certainly explained the size and the broad hilt - it would be a one-handed sword for Fane. "Ah, your letter didn't mention it was a commission, but I should probably have guessed. If you want I can have it delivered to him, or ask Klaus to send him back for a bit, they're not that far at the moment." A grin. "Unless you particularly want to carry it on the way back. Do you want me to take it for now?"

"_Would_ you? It's not as bad for the open road but I could swear it feels heavier in traffic." She shrugged off the harness and let him shoulder it. The sheath alone was beautiful work and from watching her work on the kraken clanks, Barry suspected it was entirely outshone by the blade. "And I'd like to see him handle it for the first time, but I don't know if this is a good time for him to make a special trip."

"He'd hardly mind. But if you prefer I could just take you up. It would take you away from the fair for a bit, of course, but if you're in a hurry to see the sword in his hands," which was only natural, as it was nearly always hard to be patient about a new creation, "it would actually be quicker. You could say hello to Klaus and Adam, meet Agatha..." This was sounding better and better.

Donna looked intrigued. "That does sound nice."

"Great. Let's just get you to your room, first, and work out the plans." Barry had, with some misgivings, invited her to stay in Castle Heterodyne, although he had written that particular letter outside of town and assured her he would be equally happy to arrange a hotel room. Donna had pointed out that the Castle had been chatting to her at the inn before, and as she understood the situation, she couldn't actually stay outside its reach without an inconveniently long trip into town in the morning. Which was true, but having her within the Castle proper gave it more opportunities to do creative and embarrassing things with the floor plan. On the bright side, it liked her.

All the Castle had done with Donna's room this time was to decorate it with, apparently, all the nicest swords it contained. Decorative scabbards, jewel inlaid or enamelled hilts, delicately etched blades - several centuries and a few continents of swordsmithing art. If you looked closely you could see they were hanging _against_ the wall, rather than from it.

"_Oh._" Donna stopped beside him in the doorway, and when Barry looked at her she'd gone starry-eyed. "That's magnificent." She pushed her luggage and wares just far enough to be out of the way and began a slow circuit of the walls.

"Well _done_, Castle," Barry murmured, laying Fane's sword down across a shelf.

Donna glanced back. "This was its idea?"

A rueful grin. "One of the few I've been tempted to claim. I believe my house is trying to seduce you."

She laughed. "I believe we already knew that."

"_I_ know what Sparks like," the Castle said smugly. "And you could have gone ahead and claimed it, you know. I'm not trying to seduce her on _my_ behalf."

"No, no, this was smart," Donna said, darting an amused glance at Barry. "I appreciate knowing you were the one to welcome me with such excellent taste."

"I aim to please," said the Castle, managing to sound even more smug.

Barry resisted the urge to ask it since when. His invitation had been partly on the theory that if he was thinking he might seriously court anyone, she ought to have a good idea early on of what to expect from the Castle; if it actually meant to get along with her, this deserved encouragement. "I think you actually hit 'ecstatic'," he said, as Donna was wandering happily along the walls again.

"Displaying one's finest weapons as part of courtship is traditional," said the Castle. "It's a shame she doesn't have even a small army or we could have displayed them on a battlefield. But I notice she's displaying hers as well."

Donna's eyebrows arched like ruffled feathers at the suggestion that a courtship might be improved by at least a small war, although in all honesty, Barry suspected that conflict had lent a good deal of spice to Bill's adoration of Lucrezia. (Then again that hadn't exactly gone _well_.) "Feel free to draw Fane's if that was a hint that either of you wants a better look," she said lightly to Barry. "And you can look at the, uh, spider ones too if you want."

"Are you still suspicious that was a joke?" Barry went over and put his arms around her from behind instead. "I should take you straight down to the square where they're setting up."

Donna leaned back against him a little, which was nice, and then said, "All right, yes, I'd like to see. Should I bring anything?"

"Mmm, not the cart yet if we're leaving. Grab something small." It was still full daylight, so the crepuscular participants in the Fair wouldn't be out in force yet.

"You said my customers this time would be rats and spiders-"

"Don't forget the pigeons," Barry put in.

"-They're all small." She opened up a trunk and took out what looked very much like a silverware roll, which she tucked into the crook of her arm, and Barry led her down.

The square was set up with tables, as it would be for any fair, but in this case some of the tables had little ladders leaning against them - those were the, currently empty, stalls belonging to the mice, who would come all at once and at dusk. The nyar-spiders had racks rather than tables, skeins of silk draped enticingly over them. One spider per rack - unlike the mice they were solitary, and the males valued tableware partly because it stopped their hungry mates snacking on _them_. The tables belonging to the pigeons were more varied. Magpies might more traditionally grab shiny things than pigeons, but most pigeons weren't looking to trade. Anything interesting seen from the air would eventually wind up on a table here. The pigeons ran their tables as flocks, and specialised. One was full of lost pocket watches, another of dropped toys. One even had a small selection of what seemed to be bombs, although it was anyone's guess who had dropped them.

"You really weren't kidding," Donna said in wonder, watching a young man and a spider haggle via gestures over the price of a knife and fork. ("_Nyar!_" declared the spider, pointing one foreleg emphatically at a smaller skein.)

"Told you," Barry said, a little smugly himself this time. "The mice and rats will show up this evening. Are those spider-sized?"

Donna unrolled a half-turn of fabric and extracted the most perfect miniature dagger Barry had ever seen. The sun flashed off it as if she'd taken out a mirror and the nearest forty-eight spider eyes suddenly fixed on her.

...Donna looked _slightly_ daunted as five large spiders started toward her. The sixth hunkered down on his rack and began extruding more silk on the spot.

Barry set his hands on her shoulders. "I understand the Vermin Fair got started when Bob Heterodyne got tired of spiders making off with the silverware."

"...Bob?"

"A lot of us are named by our mothers. It's supposed to keep things interesting." Heterodyne whim wasn't really a recipe for _boring_, but nor was it actually responsible for Bob's half-siblings being named Slantax and Niffedri. "Anyway, his diary says there is nothing quite like being menaced by a spider wielding a butter knife."

Donna blinked. "I imagine there isn't, but I'm suddenly not sure if I should be providing them with sharper objects."

"Ah, don't worry, we mostly get on and I can always carry a bigger knife than a spider so I win all the dominance posturing. You'd better go closer, though, or they'll try to carry you back to their racks."

"Thanks for the warning." She straightened her shoulders and stepped forward - carefully - as the spiders neared her feet. They changed direction and scurried back, waving to get her attention. Donna undid more of her roll and hung it over her arm, approximating a display rack of her own.

People actually made blades for the rats and mice all the time, or reworked the handles of old knives, and traded them for things like useful and surprisingly artistic bits of woodwork. But if anybody had tried to design spider-customised grips before, it was at least a few human generations back and ancient history for the spiders. Barry wasn't entirely sure how she'd managed that one.

At any rate she only squeaked a little when one of the spiders jumped onto her arm for closer inspection, and she sold out of the roll of little knives, in the process making several spiders very happy and earning enough silk to smother in. Barry helped her get it back to her room, where they spread it out on the bed and Donna regarded it in some bemusement. "It's so soft. Even after handling it, I keep half expecting it to be sticky."

"They can control that," Barry explained. "This is based on what would be the structural fibers in a web, although most nyar-spiders produce silk fast enough to just wrap up their prey on the go. If it gives them trouble they'll use the sticky kind." He ran a hand over one gossamer skein, going nearly invisible against the coverlet. That one was fine enough to be see-through in a single layer no matter how tightly it was woven, and he reminded himself that there were many applications for such fabric, including things like scarves and curtains. "It's tougher than it looks."

"I noticed. It _looks_ like it should have fallen apart by now!" Donna petted the same skein. "I'm not sure I quite thought through the implications of trading with spiders."

"Having them run at you, or what to do with the silk? If you don't want to wear spider-silk - or not all of it - you won't have any trouble finding someone who does want it."

"Bit of both." She looked up. "If we're going to Castle Wulfenbach, should we get started?"

"Most likely." He picked up the sword, and they headed for his airship.

* * *

Barry's airship displayed a gargoyleish face on the bow, with a trilobite on its forehead, and several other trilobites visible from various angles. There was no conceivable way to mistake it for anything but a Heterodyne craft even before going inside and seeing the wide variety of armaments around the edges. It was comfortable even with the guns taking up space (in fact, when not in use they were cushioned) and turned out to be remarkably fast.

Barry slowed it sharply as they approached Castle Wulfenbach, looming in the air and looking even more impossibly huge than from the ground. Great doors rolled open ahead of them, and he glided in to touch down lightly in a hangar.

They disembarked, Barry hauling the sword over one shoulder, and were met by a four-armed man holding a large black notebook. Barry blinked and strode forward with the kind of genuinely glad-to-see-you brilliant smile that had helped win the hearts of most of the continent - frequently when he and his brother were armed with something more destructive than a giant sword. Donna had believed in it wholeheartedly in her teens and later wondered if it was one of the many exaggerations. It was not. Barry seized the man's free right hand to shake. "Boris! Meet Donna DuLac-" He gestured back to her, although without explanation. "Donna, Boris Dolokhov." He focussed on Boris again. "You look well. How are things?" He paused. "Not that it isn't good to see you, but why are we being met by a librarian?"

"I've been promoted to secretary," said Boris. "At least, it pays more and requires more work, so I assume it was a promotion. Good to see you, Lord Heterodyne." He turned and nodded to Donna. "Miss DuLac."

"Pleased to meet you," Donna said, offering a smile of her own.

"And congratulations," Barry said. "We're here on a combination of business and a social visit - Donna made a sword for Fane, one of the Jägers, and I thought we'd drop in on friends if they've got time and definitely Agatha since classes should be out."

"Baron Wulfenbach is in his office, the children are in the common room," said Boris. "If you want a Jäger you'll have to ask one of them, I don't keep track of them."

"They can be hard to keep track of," Barry said amiably. "Apparently on leave they wander off and buy weapons from my girlfriend."

"Thankfully not all of them at once," Donna murmured.

"We'll go say hello to Klaus first. I'm sure one of them will turn up."

"This way, my Lord, madam," said Boris, leading them out of the hangar and into the corridors of the ship. Corridors with walls which were mostly plain sheets of metal, and sometimes decorated, and sometimes not there at all leaving them crossing a web of girders on walkways.

Barry was right; a Jäger did turn up, bounding sure-footed and careless across the web of girders. Barry greeted him as Minsk and sent him back off after Fane while they continued to the Baron's office, where he knocked on the doorframe before Boris had the chance to announce him. "Hoy, Klaus."

Klaus abandoned his papers with just enough alacrity to make Donna want to smile. "Well, _you_ sound like you've been back in Mechanicsburg for a while."

Barry looked very slightly fazed. "I suppose I do."

"Thank you, Boris." Klaus turned back for a moment, then handed him a stack of papers, which Boris leafed through briefly and then took away. "I suppose you're not here to help me look over research funding applications. What's going on?"

"Delivering a sword and then intruding on your school, unless that's a problem. Fane should be turning up fairly soon."

"Lessons are out for the day, and I believe Agatha is in the common room rather than the lab today. This may have something to do with a recent delivery of school supplies including rather a lot of paint," said Klaus. "But if you don't want to be chased out by Otilia I think you'd better deliver the sword first."

"What, you don't think she'd want to see it?" Barry asked with a grin. "We'll watch out for the paint." He looked over his shoulder, even though Donna hadn't heard anything, and she turned as well and saw Fane. "Anyway, here we go."

"Hy heard hyu brought der svord," Fane said, to Donna, after giving Barry a quick salute.

"I might have been a little impatient," she said, as Barry unslung the sword and passed it off. Fane took it - not quite like it weighed nothing, but like it weighed as much as a sword ought to. Good. "It won't feel truly finished until you've tried it."

"A Spark ting?" he asked, drawing it and admiring the blade. Klaus craned his neck to admire it too, rather than demanding a Jäger not test a new sword in his office.

"Hmm, my teacher was not a Spark but was very firm on the subject of commissions. But maybe, because I often feel I'm still holding Spark-work in my mind until it's been tested."

"Not actually unusual," said Klaus. "But it's convenient that your version of tested doesn't mean blown up."

"That would make a _terrible_ sword," said Donna, and got a smile from Klaus and a sharp bark of laughter from Fane.

Fane flicked a glance around the room, checking he had space, and then dropped into a fighting stance, launching into a series of sword exercises. The sword moved easily, flashing and darting despite its huge size, beautifully balanced. Klaus watched like he was taking notes, leaning his elbows on his desk. When Fane was done he slid it into the sheath and looped it over his shoulder. "Now Hy pay hyu und hyu get beck to hyu visit," he said, smiling. "Thenk hyu for bringing it."

"You're very welcome." And watching him with the sword was deeply satisfying.

Fane counted out her fee, saluted Barry again, and departed jauntily. "Well," Barry said, "we can go see Agatha now without outraging anyone, presumably. Klaus, I will come back and help with those if you save some until after the Vermin Fair. By the way, do you want anything?"

"Airship grade silk is always welcome," said Klaus. "As is the offer to help with the paperwork."

"I'll see what I can do." Barry led the way out of the office and to the school, where they were met at the entrance by a towering, unbelievably perfect winged clank in flowing muslin confined by a large wraparound apron. Somehow knowing there was a Muse turned out not to be quite adequate preparation for seeing one. Especially in a colorfully paint-splotched apron. "Good afternoon, Madame Otilia. This is Donna DuLac. May we come in?"

There was a delighted shriek from beyond Otilia. "Uncle Barry!"

Otilia put out a hand to stop the little blonde girl attempting to dart past her. "It is not good manners to throw yourself at guests, Agatha," she said. "Especially when you have paint on your hands."

Agatha looked down at her hands and sighed. "Yes, Madame Otilia. Hello, Uncle Barry. Hello... um... I'm Agatha Heterodyne and I have no idea who you are."

"This is Donna," said Barry. "Er, Miss DuLac."

"Oh! The nice lady you and Adam have been writing to." Agatha looked up at Donna. "I probably shouldn't shake hands, huh?"

Donna bent down to look at the displayed hands, which were indeed thoroughly coated with paint, as was Agatha's protective smock. "I think yours are drying," she said. "And I could always wash before I handle anything that needs to stay paint-free."

Agatha broke into a delighted grin and offered her hand; Donna took it. Only some of the paint came off.

Otilia stepped aside. "Agatha can show you into the common room, or, if you'd prefer, one of the empty classrooms. I'm afraid we don't have a visitors' room."

"The common room's fine," Barry said. "Agatha, will you introduce Donna and your friends?"

"Sure!" Agatha led the way deeper into the school, to a large room that did not look particularly like anywhere Donna had ever been in her life, but reminded her warmly of home and her own childhood anyway, because it was swarming with children of all ages in various stages of mess, although presumably in this case they weren't all some variety of cousin. Agatha made a beeline for, surprisingly, two boys who had to be a few years older than she was. "Hey Gil, Tarvek, Uncle Barry brought his girlfriend."

...Definitely reminded her of home.

The boys looked up from their paintings, and the red-haired one stood up and wiped his hand carefully clean on his smock before offering it. The other, brown-haired at least where he hadn't run his hand through his hair and left a spiky blue streak, stayed sitting on the floor but said, "Hello," a little gruffly, and smiled at Barry.

"Prince Tarvek Sturmvoraus," Agatha said, more formally, "this is Donna DuLac." She waited barely long enough for them to shake hands and then tugged Donna down to the other boy. Donna smiled at the discovery that Barry had already joined him on the floor to inspect the paintings, and sat down as well. "And this is Gil Holzfäller."

"Pleased to meet you," said Tarvek, sitting down in front of an attempt at a portrait of Otilia. He'd done rather a nice job of the texture on the wings, even if he hadn't quite got the proportions right, and he'd certainly mixed the colours himself (they were rather more muted than the bright shades in the pots). Gil had apparently gone with the bright colours, and his paper was full of pictures of brightly coloured animals in equally bright clothes - including a fox cub wearing spectacles remarkably like Tarvek's and a red-gold kitten with somewhat startlingly large green eyes.

"I'm collecting handprints from everybody, right now," Agatha explained. She certainly was. She had one sheet full of overlapping ones and two more with a mostly neat array and only a few splotches, still partially filled. "But I'm not sure I can get Madame Otilia's."

"I'm really not sure you should," said Tarvek. "Her joints fit together tightly, but getting paint in them still wouldn't be the best idea."

"She washes them," Agatha argued. "They have to be pretty well sealed."

"Probably best to skip, actually," said Barry. "They are, but they're still moving parts. Water evaporates; paint sticks to things and dries, and I'm not sure she'd especially want to deal with turpentine in there either."

"Oh, well..." Agatha frowned. "Maybe I'll ask her if she'd do it with a glove. Miss Donna, do you want to come meet everybody else?"

"Ah - yes, thank you." Donna got back up and Agatha proceeded to take her around the room, starting with "my cousin, Theopholous DuMedd" and continuing through quite literally everybody - all the students and a few teachers, including Lilith and Adam Clay. Donna rather suspected she'd have met nearly everyone eventually by staying where they were, as children kept coming by to speak to Barry for some time after they got back.

Gil pulled over another sheet of paper and started brushing bright green paint onto it. "Are you really dating Agatha's uncle?" he asked.

"_He_ said she was," said Agatha.

"Yes," said Donna, smiling alternately at all three of them and finishing on Gil. "I don't blame you for being surprised; I still am too."

"I didn't think that was supposed to surprise people," Agatha said doubtfully. "Are you sure you're doing it right?"

Donna swallowed a laugh. "I didn't say that well. I visited Mechanicsburg because your father and uncle are... famously admirable, for helping a lot of people. I wasn't actually expecting to _meet_ him."

"Oh. How come you did?"

"The Castle decided to introduce us." Donna opted against trying to explain the details.

"_Oh,_" said Gil. "It thinks I should marry Agatha, too."

"Really?" said Tarvek, giving Gil a startled look. "Why?"

"Why not?" said Gil, looking defensive.

"But I mean, you're not..." Tarvek trailed off. "I thought the _Castle_ would make a big deal out of family and things, considering what it is. That's all."

"Castle Heterodyne is intensely concerned with the _Heterodyne_ succession," Barry explained. "Its attitude toward politics is, shall we say, undiplomatic and it considers war a particularly entertaining form of courtship. It rates Gil as a devoted friend and likely to turn out to be a Spark."

"Oh," said Tarvek, looking thoughtful and, oddly, a bit concerned. "_That's_ certainly true." Then, when Gil gave him a puzzled look, he rolled his eyes at him and looked more cheerful. "I don't know why you think you won't be a Spark, it's pretty obvious."

Gil flushed. "Everybody says there's no way to tell if you don't have a family history of it."

"I don't know about that," Donna said thoughtfully. "My family has quite a few Sparks and a number of people who aren't as well. I can't say we can make truly reliable predictions, but sometimes everybody expects a particular child to be a Spark _years_ before breakthrough."

"Gil is trying to figure out how to build a dragon clank that's big enough to ride and can really fly," Barry told her.

"Oh, yes, that would probably do it."

Gil grinned. "Well, I _might_ be," he said. "Especially since Tarvek pretty certainly is and my wing designs are loads better than his."

"They were not," said Tarvek.

"They _are_," said Gil. "Just because _you_ still don't understand how they can work..."

"I understand that your calculations are off if you expect those joints to hold..."

"Lessons got a _lot_ more interesting once I got into their classes," Agatha confided. "I need a better mechanical background before I can evaluate their designs properly though."

Donna raised her eyebrows. "You're four and in classes with..." She took the higher end of her estimate to be tactful. "Eight-year-olds?"

"They're seven," said Agatha. "And yes. Once I learned to read and write all the languages the little kid lessons got kind of boring."

"The curriculum's somewhat flexible anyway," Barry put in. "Different families have highly varied approaches to how they start off. Agatha started off in the preparatory classes, essentially, and once she'd mastered the tools to move on..." He ruffled Agatha's hair affectionately and glanced in mild surprise at the flecks of orange paint on his hand. "We actually moved her to an earlier level first, but discovered she was paying more attention to her friends' work than her own."

"It was more interesting," said Agatha patiently.

Donna smiled at her. "Why do I suspect that means _they_ were more interesting?"

"That too!" Agatha agreed cheerfully.

Gil and Tarvek broke off from their increasingly involved argument about wings to smile at her. "I think we need a bat," said Gil, still looking rather distracted.

"...What?" Donna asked.

"Oh, for the wing structure," Agatha said, apparently having no trouble following this line of reasoning.

"I'm not sure Klaus has bats on board," said Barry. "There may be a book on them here, or if not, I can draw you a diagram."

Agatha handed him a piece of paper and a paintbrush, which was not quite what Donna thought of as diagram material. "I'll go and look!"

"Okay," said Barry, as Agatha ran off, "I'm not sure whether to take this as a challenge or look for a pen."

"I kind of want to see this," Donna said.

Barry grinned at her, dipped the very tip of his brush, and started painting. "Tarvek's getting pretty good precision, actually."

Tarvek smiled at him and shuffled over to get a look at the diagram as it was painted. Gil came over too, kneeling up to look down at it.

Barry started mixing greys; Tarvek hastily offered his selection, and Barry thanked him warmly and began picking out shadows in what was less a diagram than a moderately realistic skeleton.

"It looks like a hand," Tarvek said after a few minutes. "With really long fingers."

"It essentially is one. Not as versatile as ours, but then again... we can't use ours to fly."

"We were copying the smaller dragon's wings, but it's much simpler than this," said Gil.

"I don't think it needs to be this complex," said Tarvek. "Just scaling up wasn't working, but we don't need anywhere near this much rotation in the joints and it would leave the elbow weak."

"Bats don't come apart at the elbows," said Gil.

"Are you planning to essentially build the entire supporting muscular structure, though?" Barry asked.

"No," said Tarvek. "We'd be better off just strengthening the joint even if it loses flexibility."

Gil sighed and then nodded. "Okay. We need to figure out how to make it fly at all before trying to make it really manoeuvrable," he admitted, then his eyes brightened. "We can leave that for the second prototype."

Agatha returned at this point. "I found bat books, but I couldn't bring them without having a bath in turpentine," she reported, possibly quoting a librarian. "Ooh, that looks like a hand."

"Your uncle says it is," said Tarvek. "Only we probably aren't using that design. Sorry."

"Oh, well, then you don't need the books for now anyway."

"We can still use bits of it. But we can probably manage without the books," said Gil.

After several more minutes of comparative wing anatomy, Barry pulled Agatha close against his side, heedless of the paint, and kissed the top of her head. "This has been fun," he said, "but Donna and I are supposed to meet some mice this evening. I'll visit again soon."

Agatha stood up and flung her arms around him. "Have fun! Don't get married or anything without me!"

Gil had picked up a paintbrush to attempt his own diagram, and Tarvek looked up halfway through taking it from him with a frustrated huff. "Goodbye," he said, wiping off the paintbrush where Gil had shoved it into the pot. "It was nice seeing you, and thank you for the diagram."

"Thank you," Gil echoed. "Have fun meeting mice."

"I hope to," said Donna.

Barry patted Agatha on the back. "You're very welcome, thank you all for the conversation, and Agatha, we're not rushing into anything but if I have a wedding I will wait until you have time to come." He stood up and brushed at his hands, then went to find the turpentine before they left.

* * *

They arrived back in Mechanicsburg in the early evening, to find the pigeons yawning at lamplit and half empty tables, while the previously untenanted tables were now occupied by rats or mice and filled with strangely elaborate wood carvings. One table, empty of wares, had a big sign in careful letters "CLOCKWORK REPAIRED", and a group of mice with tiny tools spread out around them standing on it. A lot of the mice wore belts, with knives or swords hanging from them, some wore harnesses with pouches and tools. A few wore tiny hats, or cloaks made out of scraps of fabric.

Barry had mentioned they were smart. Donna nonetheless hadn't quite expected literate. She browsed for a few minutes, feeling as if she'd walked into a very _odd_ fairytale, and then went up to get her cart.

Haggling with a mouse was harder than with a spider, and a bit less mathematical. But her eye was caught by a sculpture of water, a cataract in white wood, with the grain worked into the design so that it almost looked alive and flowing, only to have stopped in a single moment. The fact that if you looked closely you could figure out it was emerging from a drainpipe didn't actually make much difference.

The artistic mouse picked out a knife suitable for woodcarving and all three flea combs (she'd debated whether this might be offensive, but made a few anyway), and as far as she could tell everyone ended the evening content. Barry walked her back to her room after dinner and helped wind the spider-silk off her bed.

When Barry turned to leave, after clearing her bed, he turned the door handle and then stopped, frowning. "Castle?"

"You could at least _kiss_ her," said the Castle, sounding vaguely despairing.

Barry covered his eyes. "Unlock the door and I'll think about it."

There was a click and then a "Hmmm?" noise.

Barry tested the door, apparently suspicious; it opened this time, and he looked back at Donna. She gave up and giggled. "I could go for a kiss goodnight. The first one was very nice."

The walls made an encouraging sound.

"You know, I should look at the statistics, but I think there's a reason a lot of Heterodynes meet their eventual spouses _outside of town_," Barry said conversationally. Donna wasn't entirely sure which of them he was talking to, although he came over and took her hand as he spoke.

"If your house makes a habit of commenting the entire time, I think I'm impressed that your family manages to maintain the line at all," said Donna. "Would it be premature to invite you to visit me next time?"

Barry put his arms around her; she leaned into him. "Hmmm, _I_ don't think so."

"Remember whose doing it was the two of you met," said the Castle.

"And I appreciate the introduction," Donna said, awkward as it had been at the time, "but if you keep this up I'll be embarrassed and laughing too hard to get a kiss at all."

At which point Barry did kiss her, and for several seconds Donna entirely forgot they had an audience.

...Maybe that explained it.


	15. Gil Enjoys Flying and Tarvek Doesn't

Gil pulled one glider wing out to examine it while he waited his turn at the gas pump. It wasn't much like either the bat wing Barry had drawn or like the dragon wing he'd been copying. There was the basic structure - struts radiating from the point - but this had no flexibility at all beyond up and down and didn't generate its own lift either. It was not, he decided, going to be anything he could incorporate into a dragon unless he cheated and filled the dragon's body with gas (which was a possibility, it would help get around the size issue, but it was rather a boring solution).

He was distracted from wondering when Agatha kicked off from the floor and glided across the hangar. He looked up to follow her with his head, smiling, excitement at the thought that he'd be _flying_ soon jolting him out of further analysis. Baron Wulfenbach stepped forward and caught the blimp between his hands, lowering it until Agatha's feet were on the floor and opening the valve. "If any of you find yourselves floating while still indoors, you have overfilled your blimp," he said. "Either let some gas out or call an adult over."

"Thank you," Agatha chirped at him, even though she'd obviously been having fun.

The Baron closed the valve, lifted her blimp to the height of his own head, and let go. He observed critically as Agatha drifted gradually downward, giggling. "There, that's about right."

Gil's own blimp, when filled, hovered above his head but didn't pull him off the ground so he thought he'd got it about right. It made him feel floaty when he walked, almost weightless, and he bounced eagerly across the room towards the open hangar door. Otilia caught his eye and tapped her foot as he got too close to the line of yellow tape marked out. She was wearing a glider too - blimp oversized for her greater weight, and her own wings folded down against her back. Gil wondered whether they'd give her extra steering if she unfolded them or just get in the way.

Gil stopped with his toes just barely not touching the tape, grinning hopefully at Otilia. It was really windy in here with the door open, and it tugged at him a little, but not so much he couldn't stay where he wanted to be.

"This feels so weird." Tarvek came up beside him, just a little farther back, and gave Otilia the slightly awed, generally adoring look he always did.

"Yes," said Gil, bouncing slightly on his toes because jumping would probably make him drift over the line. "I can't believe we're going to get to fly." He craned his head back to see how close they were to everyone's blimps being full. Sleipnir was bouncing across the hangar now, braid whipping out behind her, while Theo helped some of the younger ones get the right amount of gas in their blimps.

"I'm not sure I believe it either," Tarvek said, laughing a little.

Agatha bounded up to them, and Tarvek grabbed her arm before her enthusiasm could carry her across the line. She grinned at him. "It looks fun. And it does make sense."

"Heh." Tarvek twisted to glance over his shoulder at Baron Wulfenbach before saying, quietly, "I'm not sure this is the safest safety drill I've ever heard of."

"He taught Uncle Barry already," Agatha said cheerfully. "I think they think it's fun."

"_I_ think it's fun," said Gil. "And I don't think we can really fall, not very fast, anyway."

At this point Baron Wulfenbach clapped his hands and everyone turned to look at him. "Everyone behind the yellow line," he ordered, and the children scrambled to obey. "Now, your wings are controlled by two sticks, which you will hold. Lowering your wings will bring you down, lifting them will slow your fall but also catch any breeze. Steering is done by shifting body weight." He strode forwards, his own glider making his steps longer, and pointed across at another hovering airship holding position. "All you need to do, and all you will need to do in an emergency, is to glide across to another airship. Hold your wings steady, lower them if you're coming in too high, and keep a straight course. If you do get caught in turbulence, especially if you feel yourself being lifted, drop your wings. You're less likely to tumble that way, and you won't fall fast. We have people below to catch you."

"Uncle Barry's one of them," Agatha confided, not very quietly.

"Actually, Barry Heterodyne is on your target airship at the moment," the Baron said drily. "Now, for the first practice run, you'll go in groups of four." He counted off four of them - to Gil's disappointment, from one end rather than who'd been ready first. "The rest of you _will_ stay put. Now, let's go."

Gil watched them go, drifting easily downwards. There was enough of a breeze for it to pull them across slightly; Zulenna corrected determinedly and almost swerved in the opposite direction before straightening herself, while the other three went with it since it wasn't pulling them fast enough to miss the hangar. It was over surprisingly soon - which was both good, since it meant his turn would come sooner, and bad, because it meant his turn would be _short_. It looked like getting across was easy, whatever Tarvek thought, they'd barely have a chance to figure out how using their gliders worked.

The other airship shifted upward slightly, to allow the Baron and Otiia to fly back, and returned to its earlier position. Gil watched every group intently until it was _finally_ his turn, with Agatha and Tarvek and Z.

They launched, and he pushed his wings up to catch the wind.

He could feel the air moving past him, out here he was perfectly free, hanging weightless between the airships. Behind him the familiar bulk of Castle Wulfenbach, ahead of him a brilliant blue outflier, below the silvery sheen of another airship. There was something incredibly familiar about it, as much his as the walkways and scaffoldings inside Castle Wulfenbach, even as it was all wonderfully, incredibly new. He swung his weight slightly against the breeze, let himself turn, but flying straighter would only get him there sooner and he didn't want that.

He tipped his wings down slightly, slowing, falling behind the others. Tarvek tried to turn to see what was wrong and the shift in his own weight turned his glider awkwardly across the breeze, starting to push him off course. Gil grinned at him, "I'm fine, go on," he called, not sure if Tarvek could hear. Then he turned himself fully and raced alongside the airship, flying with the wind.

"_Gil!_" The Baron's shout chased him down and Gil winced just a little thinking about getting caught. His grip on the handles tightened, and he turned his head to look back, straining to do it without turning his body.

The Baron was way behind, looking distinctly frustrated, and as Gil watched he veered off and circled back. Tarvek was trying to straighten up but Agatha and Z were trying to watch both of them and not making a lot of progress. Gil faced forward again, exhilarated. It was probably fairly easy to catch up to somebody who was falling or tumbling, if you knew what you were doing, but harder to outrace somebody who was already in a wind current when you had three other people to worry about.

He'd just reached that conclusion when Barry Heterodyne finished a gradual diagonal swoop and matched speed with him. "You really should be getting back, you know."

Gil looked at him, rather surprised he wasn't being grabbed, and then further surprised when he didn't have to look _up_. "I want to learn how to fly properly." He could drop, he thought. Drop and veer, go _under_ their target airship, and he'd be out in the open sky. If he did it fast enough Barry might not catch him before he completed it. (And after he completed it, he admitted to himself, he might be glad to have an adult on hand.)

"Can't really blame you for that," Barry said. "But this _is_ a safety drill and everybody else needs their own chance to practise." He let that sink in for a second. "On the other hand, Klaus appreciates competence, however old you are. If you head back now and stop worrying him for the rest of the session, he might be up for training you further, so you'd be able to assist in a real evacuation."

Gil hesitated, wondering if he could really believe that. But he appreciated being called competent - he hadn't done much yet, but he thought he was picking this up fast, and _maybe_ it would be true. He nodded and dropped his wings slightly, just enough to get behind Barry Heterodyne and twist out of the current with his glider pointing back the way he had come, body swinging slightly too hard and tilting him wildly for a moment. He held still and let the glider settle. It felt strange, hanging in the dead air after the rush. He was going forward because the gliders were balanced to go forward, but slowly. They'd come a surprisingly long way, nearly at the tail of the airship they'd been aiming for.

"I'm not sure how to get back against the wind," Gil said. "I'm going to lose too much height." Barry would have to tell him how to get higher.

"You can get it back." Barry swung around to pace him. "Watch the seagulls." Castle Wulfenbach and the rest of its fleet attracted a lot of seagulls, especially the garbage scows. Gil followed Barry toward the nearest gulls, a little puzzled, and then saw that they were spiraling upward without flapping much.

Gil tilted towards them experimentally, feeling the tilt and dip of his glider through the rigid handholds and the shift in his harness. He slid into the place the seagulls were, expecting to have to copy their circling. But his wings and blimp caught the updraft and were lifted, suddenly, like a paper airplane being lofted. He found himself laughing, even as he tipped forward out of the updraft, he'd gone higher than he expected. He tucked his wings down slightly, he was going to want to lose some height, and slid down the air, disappointed that he quickly went back to a fairly slow glide.

"You can look under puffy little clouds or over dark patches on the ground, too," Barry called over, "but the seagulls are generally going to be easier to find."

The air was clear ahead of them leading to the target hangar, although the Baron launched again as they watched, jumping hard to gain altitude and then circling a few times as he waited for them to zigzag back.

Gil watched the seagulls, not just in the updrafts but where they drifted outside them. If you looked at it right you could map the sky with them, go where they went (or at least he could if he wasn't on his way back to the hangar). He felt an odd kinship with them, almost envy, hanging so easily and naturally on their hooked wings, made for height and distance. They'd already ruled out bird wings for the dragon, too much relied on muscle and not enough on bone, but for a moment he wished they hadn't.

He turned regretfully towards the hangar and slid across the breeze and in, dropping his wings to make a graceful landing, still smiling from the flight.

There was a hard thud just behind him, and all the students ahead looked wide-eyed. Gil twisted around as quickly as he could, and the Baron seized his blimp and moved it out of the way so he could scowl down at Gil. "_What_ did you think you were doing?"

"I wanted to _fly_," said Gil, scowling back, for the moment still too elated (still feeling too free) to be properly scared.

"_This is an emergency drill, __**not a game!**_"

"Very true," said Barry Heterodyne, landing somewhat less abruptly. "But he's back, he's safe, and," here he gave Gil a significant look, "he will not be doing that again. Will you."

Gil hesitated for one _very_ impolitic second, remembering the moment he'd just turned and run with the wind. "No, sir."

"He is a natural, though," Barry said, as breezily as if the moment of sternness had never happened and the Baron weren't scowling at him. "Comfortable in the air. If he can demonstrate he'll be responsible about it, maybe you can train him for rescues, too."

The Baron's scowl only deepened. "He's _seven_. This is meant to teach him to get himself to safety, not to risk it for other people who are likely to be _older_ than him."

"He's not going to be one of the youngest students forever," said Barry. "I wasn't suggesting you put him on rescue duty _now_. Anyway, once everybody's got the basics down, the more people can handle turbulence and troubleshoot, the better."

"I'll consider it. I'll be teaching some of the older students how to assist younger ones if necessary." The Baron turned his frown on Gil. "I'll consider letting you join the group, _if_ we have no more nonsense on the return flight."

"Thank you, Herr Baron," Gil said politely. He rather thought he should thank Barry Heterodyne, but he wasn't sure if that would just annoy the Baron again.

He managed not to start grinning again until the adults weren't looking, but as soon as they'd taken off to collect the next group of students, Tarvek pounced on him. "You did that on _purpose_?"

"Of course I did it on purpose!" said Gil indignantly.

Tarvek spluttered. "I thought you were in _trouble_ and then you just - just kept going!"

"You can't really get into _that_ much trouble while surrounded by airships and adults," said Gil. Then he squeezed Tarvek's shoulder and said, "sorry," and kind of almost meant it, more than he had when he said it to the adults anyway, because he hadn't meant to scare him. "I'll behave on the way back."

"You act like getting into trouble _with_ the adults doesn't even count," Tarvek muttered. "But okay. Thanks."

"It's not as if I _like_ being in trouble," said Gil."But sometimes it's worth it to do things you couldn't have done without being in trouble."

Tarvek looked a little ill. "I'd rather there be at least a chance of not getting caught," he said. "But at least with the Heterodyne here they went easy on you."

Gil blinked at him, because his first thought was _Agatha_ and although she made the other kids go easy on him he didn't think she affected the adults much. Then he realised who Tarvek meant. "He was really nice about it," Gil said. "I thought he was going to grab me and drag me back at first, but maybe that wouldn't have worked in gliders."

"He had a propeller that folded up," Tarvek said. "And goodness knows what else. I think he could have if he'd really wanted."

"It was nice of him then," said Gil.

"He is nice," said Agatha, from slightly higher up than usual. Gil turned around to discover that she'd taken advantage of the adults' distraction to overfill her blimp again and was dangling from it, looking very pleased with herself, her head exactly level with his. "He was building the propeller last night at the Clays'. And I think he's right, you'd be good at rescuing people."

"I'd like to rescue people," said Gil, thoughtfully. Until then he'd mostly been thinking about having the chance to fly again.

"Just _please_ be careful," Tarvek said. "Agatha, come here, they're on the way back."

"I'm fine," Agatha said, but she let him adjust her blimp before the adults came in for their next landing. Gil suspected this was just to make Tarvek feel better.

* * *

Tarvek stood behind the yellow line waiting his turn and wishing, for once, that he wasn't in the same group as Gil and Agatha. Although Gil had promised to behave this time and was probably one of the least likely people in the class to have something go wrong by accident with all that he'd managed to do on purpose. He seemed to think this was a game though, and Agatha wasn't much better. As if they weren't miles up in the air with nothing below them for a very, very long way.

He never thought of Castle Wulfenbach as being in the air while he was on it, really, it was mostly like being indoors. But standing by an open hangar door waiting to launch himself out into the sky he was terribly aware of all the _depth_ below him there was to fall through, and it made him feel as if things were squirming inside him. Nearly losing control on the way over when Gil had startled him wasn't making him feel any better, either. He took a deep breath and told himself he couldn't throw up during an emergency drill, and that once it was over he wouldn't have to do it again.

He wasn't entirely sure having to fly alongside Baron Wulfenbach helped him either, although at least the Baron seemed to be taking the situation seriously. So was Otilia, of course.

He felt the engines and pumps thrum as the airship moved upward to give them enough altitude to get back to Castle Wulfenbach, and then Otilia gave the signal and Tarvek sucked in a breath and jumped. _Just this one more time._

Gil did behave himself this time, but when he looked over and Tarvek turned his head and tried to grin back, Gil's smile fell away in favour of a worried expression. Tarvek bit the inside of his lip and made himself look straight ahead instead, concentrating on the hangar door. They were perfectly safe. Otilia was right there. It was no worse than balance tests at tower-height, not _really_.

He touched down inside the hangar slightly awkwardly, stumbling and being tugged back up by his blimp so that he wound up on his feet anyway. He shook himself and started unbuckling his harness even as he watched Gil make his own landing. Agatha zoomed in a bit too high and was caught by Barry Heterodyne, who had beaten them back, and then nearly tangled their harnesses up trying to hug him, her blimp nosing at his bigger one like a baby whale.

"Are you okay?" Gil asked quietly, coming up beside him with his glider still on. "I didn't think I'd worried you _that_ bad."

"You didn't," Tarvek answered equally quietly, keeping a hold on his own harness as he took it off - it would be embarrassing if he let go and it wound up on the ceiling of the hangar - in order to pull the blimp down and let the gas out. "I just didn't like flying."

Gil looked bewildered. "But it was amazing."

"It was a _long way down._ And we didn't have...I suppose we did have gas bags, but they're really small, and they're just meant to make us fall slower. It wasn't like being in an airship at all." Tarvek bit his lip and waited for bewilderment to give way to teasing.

"I don't think you could fall fast enough to get hurt, though, even if you went all the way down," Gil said seriously instead. "And you can get altitude back if you aim for an updraft, the seagulls find them for you, and they go fast but they're easy to get out of."

Tarvek relaxed slightly. "I'd still rather not do it again," he said. "I know you enjoyed it." But Gil had already been obsessed with flying - and now that he thought of it, did Tarvek really _want_ a flying dragon anymore? He still wanted to make one to see if they could, but he didn't think he'd like riding it much.

"I thought it would be more fun to do extra training if you came too," said Gil. He was still holding on to his glider and hadn't even started undoing the harness, as if he didn't want to let go of it, but the final group of students was on the way back across and he sighed and began picking at a buckle. "But, you probably won't have to do it anyway. I think even when they evacuate a lab or two they hardly ever _have_ to take the gliders."

Tarvek blinked at him. "Have you... been watching the adult safety drills?"

Gil grinned. "Just a few times."

Otilia bent down to help the youngest children out of their gliders, mostly to make sure they didn't let go of them in the process. Her own glider was off now, some of her feathers rumpled where the ropes of the harness had rubbed them, and the occasional metal gleam showing through the gaps. When she stood up after letting the last child out of her harness she shook them out, feathers not fluffing like a bird's but falling into place all the same. "I wonder if it would be possible to make these more functional?" she said, apparently addressing the Baron. "I believe it would have made things easier, especially when catching naughty children," she turned a hawklike gaze on Gil for a moment, and he ducked his head, looking a little abashed but not at all awed, before turning back to the Baron. "But I suppose it would be too hard to generate the lift necessary without a blimp?"

"Ah-" The Baron looked... _flummoxed_, Tarvek decided, which was a strange look on him. "It would be... challenging. Castle Heterodyne has an assortment of winged clanks with no airbags, but those are very lightly constructed. Flimsy." He hesitated. "On the other hand, your wings are proportionately much larger..."

Otilia spread one wing and ran a hand through her feathers. "They are, and not particularly light. I already have fine motor control over them, much finer than over the glider wings. I doubt they could be adapted for true flight, but living on an airship even gliding would be valuable."

She was serious about it. Tarvek wanted to say, _but you can't, you're perfect._ Wanting to improve a Muse was the height of pride...except it wasn't that, it was a Muse wanting to improve herself. Otilia was the Muse of Protection, of course she'd want to be able to fly when an airship crash would be the biggest threat to her charges. This wasn't what she'd been designed for...but it was what she was _doing_...she wouldn't be doing it forever, she was going to be _his_, and she shouldn't be asking the _Baron_...but right now did she belong to anyone at all?

"It's a little alarming to consider modifying them at all," said the Baron, which at least showed some proper feeling on the subject even if he was also pacing around Otilia looking analytical. "The silk would be simple enough - having already been replaced once -"

Otilia gave a soft chiming laugh. "It was not the first time. Some of my feathers were replaced twice because someone had spilt wine on them, and several times because my creator wanted to adjust the colours."

"You'd need sheets to catch the air at all, of course. Or else much stiffer feathers." The Baron brushed aside some of the silken feathers near the base of her wings, examining the complex gears where they rooted into her back. "These joints... They look as if they should be able to support your weight suspended from your wings, though I would recommend _gradually_ doing so as a test. I know you have an extensive range of motion. How well can you brace them against resistance?"

"I've used one to deflect a Jäger, before, but they didn't hold up well after the first time," said Otilia.

The Baron looked rather startled at this. Tarvek couldn't blame him. "Most things don't," the Baron said. "Perhaps, again, more gradual tests. From what I recall of the overall structure..." He looked thoughtful, now, and rather surprised again. "It's not ill designed for flight. But as Van Rijn evidently never equipped you with flightworthy feathers or suggested you _could_ fly, I would mistrust the strength of the implementation to bear your full weight against air resistance. If you could deflect a Jäger _once_, the struts are likely to be sturdy enough, but the joints would probably need reinforcement." The Baron glanced back suddenly at Tarvek and Gil, a smile turning up just the corners of his mouth. "Like the elbow of a bat, perhaps."

The Lord Heterodyne had talked to the Baron about them? Tarvek wasn't quite sure what to think about that. Although Lord Heterodyne was Agatha's uncle, and the Baron's friend, so maybe it wasn't that surprising.

"Would you be able to reinforce them without adding much weight, do you think?" Otilia drew one wing in front of her, lowered so she could finger the joint at the apex. "Too much would compromise my balance." Her eyes flashed for a moment. "Although I have adjusted to greater changes, and less willingly."

The Baron followed the wing around and looked up at her. "I think so. There are lighter and stronger alloys now than anything Van Rijn had available. The challenge would lie in integrating any additional pieces into your sensor and control network, or if it proved necessary to replace any of the more delicate struts."

"I would like to try it," she said. "I believe you could return me to this condition, if it didn't work."

Tarvek bit his tongue hard. Everybody knew nobody could repair a Muse (but he hoped to be able to one day). Otilia appreciated their having put her back in the right body, but there hadn't been anything much physically wrong with it. (Except Baron Wulfenbach and Barry Heterodyne and Dr. Beetle _had_ fixed her wings a little bit once already, apparently, so maybe he should just try to learn all he could from them so he had a better chance to put the lost ones back together when he grew up.) It made him feel a little ill to think the Mistress his father admired so much had done that - she'd done a lot of damage to Europa too, but that had at least been meant for a purpose. Spoiling a Muse just to see if she could do it seemed so petty.

"It may be easier than you're imagining," said Barry, finally free of his blimp and joining Otilia and the Baron with Agatha tucked against his shoulder. "Unless Van Rijn insisted on making every piece himself," here he looked inquiringly at Otilia, as this was not unheard-of behaviour in a Spark, although Van Rijn's reputation hardly centred on it, "creating them to the needed specifications wouldn't be unprecedented."

"I'm afraid I don't know," said Otilia. "Not with other creations, certainly, but I was unable to observe his work on myself."

Barry grinned. "I'm trying to be encouraging. I think you overwhelmed him."

"I appreciate it," said Otilia. "Trust me, I would not ask for something I believed would leave me damaged."

"I know." The Baron bowed slightly to her. "I am honoured by your confidence. I'll show you some designs when I've had a chance to work on them."

"Thank you," said Otilia. "For at least considering it. For now I had better get the children back to the school."

She turned to usher them out of the hangar, counting them through the door. Tarvek hung back to the end of the line and then, as she turned to walk through the door with him after her class, latched onto her hand. He was holding it tighter than he had meant to - he hadn't really meant to do that at all, but he always seemed too emotional around Otilia. She looked at him in surprise and then squeezed his hand gently.

"I assure you, the most I'm at risk of is losing some motor control in my wings. Control that was largely in aid of a graceful appearance. Although I can use them in a fight, it's not my best strategy," she said.

Tarvek shook his head. "But you should be graceful. I mean, you are, you're perfect."

"Thank you," she said.

Tarvek looked ahead at the other children, some of them were glancing back and...some of them were Fifty Families, even if none of them were closely related to the tangled branches of his family. He wondered if they felt the way he did about this, at least a little. "I don't understand why you'd want to change." Even if he did, a little, when he could see how protecting them came in.

Otilia was very quiet for several steps, and he wondered if he'd offended her, and then when she spoke it was not loud, but loud enough for the other children to hear, and he had a feeling she wasn't just talking to him anymore. "I was made to serve a purpose," she said. "And I was...glad to do so, or at least I could not be happy without doing so. But I was a work of art, and of science, and not a person in anyone's eyes. Lucrezia," a flash of green in her eyes, turning her alien and remote for a moment, "took that to its logical extreme. I expect a great many of your families were horrified when they heard what she had done. But how many were horrified only that she had desecrated a work of art? If another Storm King is ever found I will be his, and I will be glad of it as it is my nature to be. For now I intend to take advantage of being my own."

Tarvek swallowed and didn't meet his classmates' eyes. (Which was easy, because most of them stopped looking back about then.) She didn't entirely sound like she _wanted_ to be glad about it. But he couldn't quite bring himself to ask her about that. "And they-" He stopped and tried to think. She looked down at him and was patient. "You think they're good enough to do it and won't stop thinking of you as a person any more than they would if they were... doing surgery on someone biological."

"The Baron has not treated me differently as a clank to he did as a construct. And he treated me very well as a construct," Otilia said. "The same goes for the Lord Heterodyne, although I did not know him as well."

"That's good," Tarvek said. He wasn't sure he'd have been able to do it. It would have been so strange to know her first and then find out she was a Muse. (Gil said she was a little bit different now, mostly happier and less growly.) Then he made himself say, "I hope it works."

"Thank you." She let go of his hand as they reached the school, but smiled at him. "Now, all of you have a short break before your next lesson, I believe."

Tarvek nodded and went to catch up with Agatha and Gil.


End file.
